And Hell Followed With Them
by xxOrganizedInsanityxx
Summary: Connor and Murphy are only three weeks into their prison sentence when the dead start to rise. Boston is soon completely overwhelmed and the brothers have no choice but to run; their one slim hope lying in the possibility of a refugee camp in Atlanta.
1. Infection

Murphy stared sullenly at the murky sky overhead, a scowl fixed on his face as he drummed his fingers restlessly on the table in front of him. It was on miserable days like this he used to happily spend his time drinking away the hours with his brother in McGinty's. But that was a long time ago now. Before they had become the Saints. Before everything had spiraled well out of their control.

His gaze suddenly fell on the chain link fence that enclosed Hoag prison, towering high over his head. His eyes narrowed as they came to rest on the barbed wire secured to the top of the barrier, glinting menacingly in the dull light. He sighed inwardly.

_Christ_, he needed a smoke...

"Murph!"

The sound of his twin's voice startled him out of his daze. He turned to face Connor, who was sitting across from him, glaring at him heatedly.

"What?" Murphy shot back, irritated.

"Have you been listenin' to a fuckin' word I jus' said?" Connor demanded.

Murphy hesitated, realizing guiltily that he hadn't. His brother's glare only intensified as he abruptly leaned across the table and slapped him hard on the side of his head.

"_Ow! _Fuckin' hell, Connor!" the younger twin protested. "What was that for?"

"That's what you get for acting like a fuckin' idiot! I'm trying to tell you something important and your mind's drifting. I swear, it's like you've got the memory of a fuckin' goldfish or somethin'."

Murphy frowned, eyeing his brother suspiciously. "What've you got to tell me that's so fuckin' important?" he asked.

"You _know_, Murph." Connor said solemnly. He glanced around warily, almost as if expecting someone to be listening in on their conversation, before he continued; his voice suddenly hushed. "...I'm talking about us getting the fuck outta this place."

"Yer fuckin' kidding me." He groaned. "You're not _still _talkin' 'bout that?"

"Yes, I'm fuckin' talking about _that_."

"_Jesus_...not again." Murphy grumbled. "M'sick of you and yer stupid fuckin' plans..."

"They're not stupid!" Connor protested. "M'telling you Murph, this is some serious shit; I know what I'm fucking talking about."

The younger twin rolled his eyes, obviously not taking him seriously, which only annoyed his older brother further.

"Look, would you just fuckin' listen to me for a second, Murph? Please?" he pleaded.

Murphy grimaced irritably, but didn't say anything more. He knew there wasn't much hope of one of his brother's stupid plans breaking them out of Hoag, but he decided to humour him. Connor seemed to take his silence as a sign he was listening and continued on eagerly, his voice lowered considerably.

"Y'see, there's been something going on with the staff in this place. I overheard some of the night watchmen a few days ago; talking amongst themselves about some virus or somethin' that's been going 'round, making everyone sick and-"

There was a sudden burst of boisterous laughter from somewhere behind him, startling the brothers. Connor hesitated, the racket causing him to lose his train of thought. His gaze swept over Murphy's shoulder, eyes narrowing when they came to rest on the source of the noise.

"Fuck's sake..." he muttered irritably. "What the fuck're those idiots doin' now?"

"What?" Murphy turned to glance over his shoulder, quickly spotting a group of rowdy inmates clustered at the far end of the prison yard, hurling abuse at a solitary figure on the other side of the chain link fence.

"Who is it?" He squinted in the dull light, trying to identify the different members of the group.

The older twin scowled. "S'those crazy fucks from Block C. Marco Salvati and all his fuckin' cronies."

Murphy scowled at the mention of the Italian gangster. Salvati was the leader of one the most notorious gangs from the East side of Boston, and had supposedly been involved in a bank robbery a few years back, in which fifteen innocent people were gunned down. With a track record like that, Marco's gang had come to the brother's attention more than once and between them they'd managed to take down a small handful of their members.

Unfortunately for Connor and Murphy, Marco had been given a sentence of fifteen years only a few months earlier, after he'd been caught dealing cocaine. He was all too aware of the role the brothers had played in the death of his kin and had been baying for blood ever since he had learned of their capture.

It was because of Marco Salvati that Murphy had almost been killed within the first week of their imprisonment.

But he didn't want to think about that now...

Murphy's attention was drawn back to the lone man on the other side of the fence, who was staggering around drunkenly; unsteady on his feet. He paid no attention to the hostile group of inmates sneering at him, almost as if he didn't even notice they were there.

Connor grimaced, disgusted. "They'll turn on any poor bastard that's weaker than them. S'like they're fuckin' vultures..."

"Aye." Murphy agreed, eyeing the unstable figure thoughtfully. Judging by the way he was barely able to stand upright, the guy was obviously plastered; but at the same time, there was something about him that didn't seem right... He couldn't be completely sure but it looked like he might have a severe limp. And that dark mark on his collar, was that...blood? The man suddenly froze, standing completely still; his head tilted slightly in the direction of the group of inmates, as if only just realising there was someone there. He stumbled, whirling round abruptly to face them.

Murphy's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the man's face. Blood from a vicious looking gash on his neck had splattered all over his shirt, making it look as though he'd been drenched with red paint. His face was caked with dirt and he seemed to be swaying slightly from side, as if he were struggling to stay on his feet.

"Jesus Christ..." Connor said softly. "The fuck happened to him?"

Murphy didn't say anything. He watched as Marco took a hesitant step closer to the fence, watching the man cautiously, his dark eyes narrowed in scrutiny. Then he neatly stepped back, turned away and, unbelievably, roared with laughter.

Murphy felt a flare of anger at his complete lack of concern for a guy who, for all he knew, could be bleeding to death. What kind of sick bastard would laugh at someone who was injured that badly? Murphy scrambled to his feet, his fists clenched in anger.

Connor's attention was caught by the sudden movement and he eyed his brothers back warily. "Murph? What're you doing?"

"M'gonna go punch that fucker's teeth in!"

"Y'really think that's a good idea?" Connor asked sceptically. "What they do s'got nothin' to do with us really, and considerin' what happened last time we crossed Marco, we probably shouldn't-"

He stopped, abruptly realizing that he was talking to thin air. Murphy was already half way across the prison yard. And judging from the scowls fixed on their faces, Salvati's gang wasn't exactly happy to see him...

Connor swore to himself and clambered out of his seat, reluctantly following after his brother, crossing the yard at a half run. He managed to reach the group before any punches were thrown; though by the way Murphy was standing practically nose to nose with Marco, yelling in his face, he knew it wouldn't be long before a fight broke out.

"...The guy's fucking bleedin' to death and yer standing there laughin' at him y'sick fuck!" Murphy said furiously.

"Fuck you, Irish!" Marco shoved him hard enough to knock him back a few feet. Connor winced slightly, as if he'd been the one to be hit instead. He reached over and, putting a hand on his shoulder, yanked his enraged brother back, out of harm's way. He turned to face Marco, who was glaring at him furiously, with a smile.

"Y'know, I always thought you were a coward," he said scornfully, "but I never thought you'd stoop as low as to pick on someone in that sort of state." He gestured to the man behind the fence, who was staring eerily at the group through unfocused, discoloured eyes. "S'pretty fuckin' pathetic if y'ask me."

"Nobody fuckin' asked you though, _did they_?" the Italian snarled, visibly bristling. "That's what I really hate about you fuckin' micks; you always gotta be gettin' involved in _every little thing_ that don't fuckin' concern you!" he spat at Connor's feet in disgust. "You should just be thankful I don't have my switchblade on me, 'else I'd slash your fuckin' throat open!"

Murphy felt his blood run cold at the realization that Marco meant every word he had said; he was more than capable of murdering his brother, and would do it in a heartbeat if given the chance. But Connor didn't seem fazed in the slightest; he barely even flinched.

"Yer not gonna achieve anything by threatenin' me, Marco. M'not scared of scum like you." He said.

Salvati seemed almost disappointed by the lack of reaction from the older McManus, but the scowl on his face was quickly replaced by a malicious smirk, when his gaze fell on the younger brother.

"Maybe not; but I know somethin' you _are _scared of." He sneered. Murphy's heart slammed against his ribs as he realized what he was implying. It had been during their first week at Hoag when the brothers had first met Marco Salvati face to face. Barely five minutes had passed before the death threats had started and Murphy had responded in the only way he saw fit: by punching the gangster square in the jaw. The ensuing fight couldn't have lasted more than thirty seconds, before the guards were called in to break it up. Marco had walked away with a nasty looking black eye and a bruised ego, whilst Murphy was virtually unharmed, aside from scratch or two. Connor had been a little worried by the murderous looks his younger brother had been receiving, but Murphy himself barely noticed; he was too busy laughing at his easy victory.

He wasn't laughing the next day, when they had cornered him and his twin in the kitchen. Needless to say, _that_ fight hadn't exactly been fair, considering it was just the two of them against seven or eight others. But this hadn't been the first time the brothers had been attacked, and they were able to hold their own for a while. That was until Marco had pulled out a serrated knife he'd had concealed in his pocket, and buried it deep in Murphy's thigh; slicing a main artery in his leg.

If it hadn't been for the guards who had burst into the room at that moment and had Murphy rushed to the infirmary, he would've most likely died from blood loss. Just the memory of that was enough to make Murphy shudder. He glanced down at his left leg, the one that had been slashed. The scar that the gash had left behind was about the length of his middle finger and served as a constant reminder of how ruthless Salvati really was. Even worse, that day Marco had learned the one true weakness the McManus brothers had: each other.

And he planned to use that against them, at any given possibility.

"Don't really matter what I do to you, just s'long as nobody touches your fag brother, ain't that right?" Marco continued, smirking arrogantly.

"Fuck off." Connor said sharply.

Marco turned to regard the younger McManus with contempt, his eyes narrowed. "I bet you he ain't gonna look so pretty once I've cut his fuckin' eyes out!"

There was a long, agonising moment of silence whilst Connor processed this. Then he gave a heavy sigh, as if he found the whole situation boring.

"Yer not gonna do that, Marco." He said softly.

"Oh? And why the fuck not?" the gangster replied, clearly aggravated that he hadn't gotten the reaction he had wanted. He'd obviously been expecting Connor to lose his cool at start screaming again, like he had when his brother got stabbed. But he didn't know what Murphy knew. He didn't know that Connor was at his most dangerous when he was quiet.

"'Cause the last mother fucker tha' tried to kill m'brother ended up with the back of his skull smashed in." Connor growled, his voice suddenly cold. "Trust me; you don't wanna go down that fuckin' road with me."

He had taken a step forward so the two were practically toe to toe. Marco's expression had turned thunderous and he looked like he wanted nothing more than to stick a knife between Connor's ribs. Murphy slid forward, sensing a fight coming and prepared to throw a punch at the Italian the first chance he got.

Then he heard the scream.

Murphy jumped and whirled round, startled to see the injured man had gotten much closer, sneaking right up to the fence while they were all busy arguing. He had shoved a gnarled, dirt encrusted hand through the space in the chain link and caught hold of the collar of one of Salvati's cronies; some scrawny, rat-faced man called Andre, who was now pummeling him with his fists in an effort to free himself. But the man on the other side of the fence didn't seem to even notice the punches raining down on him. He kept a firm hold on Andre, opened his mouth wide and, as the rest of the group watched on in horrified silence, sank his teeth deep into his shoulder. Andre let out an agonised cry of pain, thrashing about even harder. Murphy felt bile rise in his throat and stumbled back, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

The explosive sound of a gunshot made them all jump and then Connor's hand was suddenly on his shoulder, hauling him out of the way as a pair of guards rushed past them, guns drawn. The one closest to the fence, raised his weapon, took aim and fired, hitting the man behind the fence square in the shoulder. The force of the bullet at such close range, knocked him back a few feet, causing him to lose his hold on Andre, who collapsed to the ground in a whimpering, bloody heap.

"C'mon, let's get the fuck outta here." Connor muttered urgently. Murphy could only nod mutely in agreement as he turned, and followed his brother as he crossed the prison yard. He hadn't gotten very far when he hear a pounding of footsteps and was shoved roughly to the side as a pair of inmates hurtled past him. By the panicked expressions on their faces he could tell they'd just witnessed the same thing he had and he managed to catch the end of their conversation before they moved out of earshot.

"...Did you fuckin' _see that_?" One of them gasped, turning to his companion with a look of horrified disgust. "That _sick fuck _he...he took a _fucking bite _out of Andre!"

"I know..." the other one shook his head in disbelief. "Did you see all that blood? Dude looked like he took a whole fuckin' chunk taken outta his shoulder..."

Murphy paused, eyeing his brother who had kept walking and didn't seem to realize he wasn't being followed him anymore. He steadied himself before he glanced reluctantly over his shoulder, taking one last look at the scene he'd left behind. His heart leapt into his throat at what he saw. The group that had been clustered at the fence, mainly Marco's gang, had now been thoroughly disbanded by the guards and Andre himself had vanished too, most likely to be rushed to the infirmary so his wound could be treated. But there was no sign of the man who had been on the other side of the fence: he had completely disappeared.

The younger McManus felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. Despite the fact the guy had been shot, he still somehow had the strength to pick himself back up and wander off again. That couldn't be right...That wasn't normal! The thought that a guy that fucking psychotic could be wandering freely around the streets of Boston, scared the hell out of him. His gaze dropped to the dark puddle of Andre's blood which was splattered all over the concrete and he shuddered, before he turned away, running to catch up with his brother.


	2. Infestation

**AN: First off, I'd like to say a massive thanks to all those who reviewed/favourited/alerted etc. This is the first ever crossover fic I've done and I'm so glad it was well received.**

**On another note, this chapter (as well as probably a good few to come) contains, well, quite a shit-load of gore. So viewer discretion is...something. I dunno. It's almost two in the morning here and I need my sleep. Lol.**

**Anyway, hope ya'll enjoy. :) I'll shut the fuck up now! xD**

* * *

Connor stared up at the concrete ceiling inches above his head. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop hearing the terrible echo of Andre's agonized screams. He pressed his palms hard against his eyes and rolled on to his side to face the brick wall, struggling to get comfortable on the thin mattress. Behind him, he could hear the steady thudding of Murphy's feet as he paced up and down the cell. There wasn't really much space for him to move around in, considering the room was barely bigger than a cupboard. The bunk beds took up the entire left wall, leaving scarcely any room for the toilet and sink which had been crammed into the corner. The only available square of space was occupied by Murphy as he continually stomped back and forth, the scowl on his face suggesting his thoughts weren't exactly pleasant.

Connor couldn't blame him really. After the encounter with Marco, he wasn't in the best of moods himself. Neither of them really liked to think about how close a call it'd been. He'd still have the occasional nightmare about it; horrific dreams in which no guards had come to stop the attack and he was forced to watch helplessly as his brother bled to death at his feet...

Murphy slamming his fist into the brick wall jerked him out of his thoughts. He turned on to his other side to face him, watching as he did another few more laps around the room before he finally spoke up.

"Hey, Murph? Y'alright?"

The younger twin hesitated, taken aback by the sudden question, before he quickly resumed his pacing.

"M'fine." He muttered hurriedly, without looking up.

"Y'sure? 'Cause I mean...tha' was some crazy fuckin' shit we saw today and I wouldn't blame y'fer-"

"_Christ_, would y'shut the fuck up?" Murphy snapped. "Told you m'fine! Stop yer fretting; yer starting to turn into our fuckin' mother!"

Connor bit back on his snappy retort, knowing he wasn't going to achieve anything by getting into an argument. It stung a little that his own brother wasn't willing to share what was bothering him; usually they could tell each other anything...But there wasn't really anything he could do about it. If Murphy didn't want to talk, then he wasn't going to. Stubborn fuck that he was.

"Hey! Hey, McManus!"

The sound of an irritatingly familiar voice stopped Murphy in his tracks. He glanced up and shared a knowing look with his brother, before he turned and stormed over to the barred wall of the cell. Connor sat up, careful not to bang his head on the low ceiling. He peered through the bars of their cell, to the identical one across the hall from theirs. It just so happened that Andre had been placed in the same Block as them; luckily, he was the only member of Salvati's gang there. And though there had been a few times when he had made a few snide remarks aimed at them, he certainly wasn't saying anything today. His cellmate was a Latino called Damian, who held a very vague resemblance to Romeo. Connor felt a pang of sadness at the thought of his friend, who they'd seen very little of since becoming imprisoned, seeing as he'd been allocated to an entirely different area of the prison. He turned his attention back to the overly curious Damian, who was leaning against the bars of his own cell, watching his brother with an eager grin on his face.

"The fuck d'you want?" Murphy snapped, scowling at him. The smile was instantly wiped off.

"Hey, why you acting like such an asshole all of a sudden?" he asked, feigning hurt. "I only wanted to ask you a question, for Christ's sake."

When Murphy didn't bother to reply to him, he continued on regardless. "Heard you two were there when all that shit happened with Andre."

"Yeah, so fuckin' what?"

"I wanna know what happened. Give me details!"

Murphy snorted reproachfully. "Fuck off. M'not yer damn lackey. You wanna quiz someone go ask Marco or one of his fuckin' cronies; they were there too!" His gaze shifted to the motionless figure of Andre curled up on the bed. "Or why don't you ask Andre? He's the one it fuckin' happened to!"

Damian frowned. "I can't ask him."

"Why the fuck not?"

Connor watched the Latino's face cautiously. There was something very off about the way he was acting, he realized. He kept shifting slightly from foot to foot and stealing nervous glances at Andre, almost as if he was scared of something. He turned himself around, swinging his legs of the bed and leapt down, crossing the room to stand beside his brother.

"What's going on, Damian?" he demanded.

"Huh?"

"Yer acting fuckin' weird." Connor said bluntly. "S'like you got a gun to yer head or something. What the fuck's happened?" He gestured towards the immobile Andre. "Is it somethin' to do with him?"

Damian hesitated, as if reluctant to go on. "I dunno." He said eventually. "He's just been acting kinda strange, ever since he got back from the infirmary, y'know? He ain't spoken a word to me, he's just kinda laying there." He glanced at his cellmate, who coughed weakly. "I...I think there's something really wrong with him. He's sick."

The scowl quickly melted from Murphy's face. "Sick? With wha'?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. But I get the feeling it's something to do with that crazy fuck that took a chunk outta him."

Murphy thought back to the man who had attacked Andre. The way he had been staggering about as if drunk; the way he'd failed to react, both to the cruel taunts of Marco's gang and Andre's punches. Not to mention that he seemed to have some sort of super human strength, despite the fact he had looked half dead.

Maybe there was something else going on here...

Damian's expression had darkened, as he slowly became more and more alarmed. "What if that guy gave him some sort of _disease_?" he said, his voice rising with panic. "What if it's contagious and he somehow passes it on to me?"

He glanced back at Andre, who still hadn't moved, and edged a few feet away. Connor rolled his eyes.

"D'you not think yer being a tad melodramatic?" he chided. "Maybe he's just in shock or something?"

"That _ain't _shock!" The Latino snapped, suddenly losing his patience. "M'telling you, something's wrong with him. He's burning up! There's a heat coming of him like a fuckin' furnace. That's not _normal_!"

Connor paused, unsure of what to do. Damian wasn't exactly bright, and considering his history this probably wouldn't be the first time he'd exaggerated something. But at the same time...He couldn't get rid of the cold feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. There was a sudden loud clatter as the door at the far end of the corridor was flung open.

"10pm, ladies! Time for lights out!"

Following the call from the night guard the inmates reluctantly clambered into their bunks. Murphy sent one last dirty look in Damian's direction before he spun around, shoving past Connor and climbing into his bed; promptly turning himself round to face the wall.

"Christ..." Damian muttered, running a hand through his short black hair and stealing another nervous glance in his cellmate's direction. "I _really _don't wanna sleep in the same room as him..."

"Not like y'really have a choice." Connor said. "But m'sure there's nothing to worry about. Mean, really, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Famous last words..." Damian said, but he was smiling, at least.

The older twin quickly spun around and clambered into the top bunk as he heard the guard fumbling with his keys to unlock the control panel for the lights. After a few seconds there was a muted click and very abruptly the lights snapped off, leaving the inmates in total darkness.

* * *

Benjamin was pissed off. Pissed off and soaking wet. Which really wasn't the best of combinations. It was just his luck that the night he was put on watch outside, the heavens decided to open up. His blonde hair was completely saturated and plastered to his forehead, dripping rainwater into his eyes. He raised his arm and swept his fringe back, glancing down at the front courtyard of the prison far below him.

Hoag was set up with several watchtowers, set around the perimeter of the facility. The towers were basically just metal grate platforms roughly 50 feet in the air, with a ladder for the guards to climb up and down. A floodlight was placed in the corner, attached to the railing that was secured around the platform, to prevent any accidents. Though it was a shame they didn't think of putting some sort of cover on the damn things...

The sudden crackle of his walkie talkie made him jump. He sighed and tugged the device out of his pocket, thumbing the 'call' button.

"Hello?"

"How's the weather up there, sunshine?"

At the sound of his friend's voice, Benjamin cracked a smile, his misery at the torrential downpour temporarily forgotten.

"Fuck you, Jake."

He heard a merry laugh on the other line. "I love it when you talk dirty to me!"

The blonde rolled his eyes. "What d'you want? I'm very busy right now."

"Who says I want anything? Can't I just call my best friend in the whole world to chat anymore?"

"Have you forgotten this is our _job_? We're not getting paid to fuck around all the time."

"You're no fun! Why don't you live a little?"

"Why don't you grow up?" Benjamin shot back. Before his friend could retaliate, there was a sudden loud bang from far below him, on the street side of the fence. He jumped, startled, and whirled round, flipping on his flashlight. Tucking his walkie back into his pocket, he leaned over the railing, pointing the beam of light down at the pavement beneath him. But the night was too dark, and the light too weak to illuminate much.

'_Probably just a cat or something...´_He thought to himself. _'Nothing to worry about.'_

But his heart was still thudding hard against his ribs, and his hands were shaking slightly as he pocketed the torch. The feeling of unease wouldn't be half as bad if it weren't for the fact half the streetlamps in the area weren't working. There'd been a lot of power outages all across Boston the past couple of days and there'd been no explanations for it on the news, or anywhere else for that matter. There was a crackle of static and the voice of his friend broke into his thoughts.

"Hey, Ben? You there?"

"Yeah...Yeah, I'm here." Benjamin was a little surprised at how shaky his voice sounded.

Jake laughed, a little nervously. "Christ, man! Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry, just...thought I heard something...it's probably nothing though..."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." The blonde, already feeling awkward, racked his brain trying to think of something to change the subject. Somewhere a few streets over there was the distinct wail of a car alarm going off, startling him again.

"...I dunno about you-" Jake was saying, catching his attention again. "-but I'm beyond fuckin' exhausted right now. I've been working overtime all Goddamn week, 'cause of that dick Kenny..."

"What's happened? What's he done now?"

"You haven't heard? He's been off sick for days. Apparently he's caught some virus or something and hasn't been able to come in. So I've had to take over some of his shifts. You ask me he's probably just faking it so he can stay of work. Lazy shit..."

"I dunno..." the blonde said, "There's been a lot of stuff on the news lately about somethin' nasty going around. They're saying it could turn into an epidemic."

Jake snorted. "That's bullshit! That sort of thing always is. It's already happened countless times before; I bet you any amount of money you like, the whole thing'll have blown over in a matter of weeks."

"Suppose your right." Ben said, sighing heavily. He flicked on his flashlight again, still unable to see much in the near impenetrable darkness surrounding him. "To tell you the truth, I'm more worried about these constant power outages."

"Why? You scared of the dark or something?" His friend snickered.

"Shut the fuck up. It's nothing like that." He said reproachfully. "I'm just thinking...the cell doors; they're locked electronically, right?"

"Yeah? So?"

"So what if Hoag's hit with a power cut? What if that fucks with the lock mechanism on the doors. Won't the prisoners be able to get out?" Benjamin asked anxiously.

"Don't be so stupid!" Jake scoffed. "That's not gonna happen. Hoag is a _maximum security _prison. Clue's in the name. A power cut's not gonna do anything like that."

"I guess..." The blonde said doubtfully, wiping his soaking hair out of his face. He froze suddenly when he heard a muffled thud from below him. He hesitated before he crossed the platform, leaning over the railing. It was still too dark to see very much, but even then he could tell there was definitelysomething moving around down there. He paused before he picked up his walkie talkie again.

"Hey, Jake? I'll call you back in a sec."

"What? Why?"

"I think I hear something down at street level. I'm just gonna check it out; make sure there's nothing down there."

Jake snorted. "The hell are you talking about? Who's going to-"

His voice was cut off by a sudden crackle of static and Benjamin promptly shut off his walkie. He turned again and glanced over the barrier, pulling his torch out of his pocket. He switched it on and pointed it at the ground. At first he couldn't spot anything, then there was a rattling of metal and he saw the chain link fence beneath him shudder, as if someone was shaking it.

He swung the beam of light more to the left, the weak glow only just able to illuminate the pavement. He leaned over a little more, eyes narrowed and almost jumped out of his skin when he spotted her. Standing next to the fence, fingers intertwined in the chain link, was a woman. She had long dark hair, that was hopelessly tangled and was only wearing what looked like a nightdress, which was sodden from the near constant rain. She didn't even have a pair of shoes on her bare feet, which were filthy. She looked like she'd just rolled out of her bed. But what the hell was she doing here? Benjamin cleared his throat before attempting to address her.

"Uhh...excuse me?" he called, a little awkwardly. "Ma'am?"

The woman gave little indication she had heard him, continuing to stare blankly ahead. The thought had crossed his mind that she might have a few screws loose: after all, what normal person went for a walk in the middle of the night in nothing but their nightclothes? He tried again to catch her attention, raising his voice a little and trying to sound more authoritative.

"Excuse me, but this is a private facility. No civilians are authorised to be here." He paused, realising how much of a dick he must sound right now, and was secretly glad that no one, specifically Jake, was there to see him making an ass of himself.

"Uhh...I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to move along." He finished lamely, not really expecting the woman to pay him any attention. He was mildly surprised when she suddenly froze, tilting her head in his direction, as if listening intently. His surprise quickly turned to shock when the weak light from his torch illuminated her face. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and though she appeared to be staring right at him, Benjamin didn't think she was actually seeing him. The front of Her white nightdress was coated with blood, either from her or someone else, he couldn't tell. She opened her mouth to snarl viciously at him, he caught sight of her teeth, which were also blood stained.

"_Fuckin' shit_!" He leapt back, his heart jumping into his throat. He stumbled and fell, the torch flying out of his hand and through a gap in the railing, disappearing over the side. The blonde swore again and clambered clumsily to his feet, his legs shaking as he fumbled for his walkie.

"Jake! Jake, are you there?"

For a moment there was no reply, apart from the crackle of static. Then:

"Yeah...Yeah, I'm here. Are you okay, man?" Jake sounded concerned. "What happened?"

"There's a woman..." Benjamin began, a little breathlessly. "She's...She's just standing there by the fence...Covered in blood."

There was a pause as his friend digested this. "So, what do you want me to do?"

"Y'think you can come up here man? I just...I dunno what do to. I'm fucking freaking out over here."

Another pause, and what sounded like a heavy sigh. "Give me a couple minutes."

There was a click as Jake disconnected. Ben pocketed his walkie and leaned against the railing, trying to calm his nerves. He was certain he could still hear the woman far below him, rattling the fence, but he didn't dare look again. A few minutes past before he heard someone clambering up the ladder and a couple of seconds afterward Jake appeared, looking considerably annoyed, probably because he'd been dragged out into the rain. The irritable expression on his face quickly vanished when his gaze fell on his blonde friend.

"The hell happened to you?" He asked. "You look like you seen a fuckin' ghost or something."

"I _told_ you." Benjamin said. "There was a woman down there, completely covered in blood. She's standing there in her nightdress and her bare feet and she looked fuckin' _insane_-"

Jake crossed the platform and leaning over the railing, glancing down at the pavement far below him.

"I can't see shit. Is it always this dark?"

He shook his head. "Half the street lights aren't working. Think it's something to do with all the power outages..."

Jake frowned. "What about your flashlight?"

"_Fuck_. I dropped it."

"Whole lot of good that does us." He scoffed. His gaze fell on the floodlight next to him and he grinned. "Then again, maybe we won't need it."

Jake reached up for the light, scrabbling to find the switch and flicking it on. Benjamin squinted, momentarily blinded by the sudden bright light, and raised his arm to shield his eyes.

"Holy fucking shit..." His friend sounded horrified. Ben turned to face him, surprised to see the look of absolute shock on his face. The blonde went to stand beside his friend, leaning over the railing to get a better look. The floodlight had illuminated the street below far better than his flashlight could've. It turned out that the woman who had been hovering by the fence wasn't alone...

There had to be at least fifty other people wandering the street below. Even more disturbingly they all appeared to be in the same sort of state she was in. They were wearing the same torn, filthy clothes and the majority of them were covered in blood. At first they were all more or less unresponsive, standing motionless on the concrete. But when Jake had turned the floodlight on them they had all moved, almost as one, turning their blank, vacant faces towards the light.

Benjamin couldn't explain why, but the sight of all those bloody faces staring up at him stirred some deep-rooted primal fear within him and he found himself reaching for his gun as the horde of people simultaneously turned and shambled towards the prison gates.

* * *

It was in the early hours, maybe around two or three in the morning when the screaming started. Murphy was jerked abruptly out of his sleep, sitting up so fast he smacked his head on the bunk above him.

"Ow, _fuck_!" He clutched his forehead with one hand, while using the other to drag himself out of bed, almost getting kicked in the head by Connor as he was in the process of clambering out of his own bunk.

"The fuck's going on?" His brother cried, still half asleep. "Wha's happened?"

Murphy couldn't answer. The lights were still switched off, leaving them all in complete darkness; there was only the sound of the constant horrendous screams and the uproar of confusion from the other inmates.

"Who the fuck's that?"

"S'that Andre?"

"What the hell's goin' on?"

"Would you _shut the fuck up! _M'tryna sleep!"

Above all the cries of anger and confusion there was another voice Murphy distinctly recognised.

"_He's dead! Christ, he's fuckin' dead! Get me the fuck outta here!"_

"Jesus...That sounds like Damian!" Connor hissed. "The fuck's wrong with him?"

Before he could attempt to answer, the door at the far end of the hallway was flung open, the thud as it slammed against the wall resonating through the large room, silencing the other voices. There was a click and suddenly the lights flickered on. Murphy blinked, squinting in the sudden brightness and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He heard the sound of approaching footsteps and a couple of seconds later a pair of disgruntled guards stopped across the hall from his cell. Now that the lights were on he could actually see what was going on around him. Peering around the guards that were obstructing his view, he glanced into the cell occupied by Andre and Damian, not knowing what to expect.

What he saw gave him the shock of his life.

Lying face down on the concrete floor beside his bunk, in a pool of his own blood, was Andre. Damian was in a near hysterical state, scrambling for the door the second it was unlocked, babbling incoherently. The guard was obviously taken aback by his strange behaviour and swiftly raised his gun, training it on him. The Latino raised his hands in surrender, his eyes wide.

"Hey, man. Take it easy; I didn't fuckin' do anything, alright?" he stammered. "I-I woke up and he was coughing up blood and he just fuckin' collapsed and I don't think he was breathin' and I just fuckin' lost it; he's got a fuckin' _disease _or somethin' man and I don't wanna-"

"Shut the fuck up and face the wall!" The second guard barked. "Keep your fuckin' hands where I can see 'em!"

Damian quickly complied, his raised hands trembling uncontrollably. "I swear, I haven't done anything! I woke up and he was like that, I never touched him it was that crazy fuck that attacked him, _he _had something to do with it, I never did anything!"

"Thought I told you to shut the fuck up!"

Murphy's gaze fell on the motionless figure of Andre, as the first guard crossed the cell to stand over him, nudging his arm with his foot. When he didn't move he turned away to face Damian.

"The hell happened to him?"

"I _told _you! I don't fuckin' know! I just woke up a-and he's...I-I think he's dead, man."

Connor had been standing silently at his brother's side while watching the scene unfold before him. He nudged his brother in the ribs, to get his attention and nodded in Andre's direction.

"Either I'm going fuckin' crazy," he said softly. "Or that mother fucker just moved."

The younger twin stared at him in disbelief. "Have you fuckin' lost it?" He hissed. "How can he fuckin' move? He just said he's _dead_!"

"Aye...that's what I'm wondering..." Connor muttered.

Murphy watched Andre cautiously. A few seconds past and nothing happened. Then, out of nowhere: movement. A sign of life. It might have only been the slightest twitch of a finger, but he noticed it.

"Did you just fuckin' see that?"

Connor nodded gravely. "Aye."

As the guards backs were turned, their attention focused solely on Damian, the McManus brothers watched in horrified silence as Andre moved again; this time his entire left arm jerked. Evidently, they weren't the only ones who noticed as Damian, fell quiet, mid-rant and froze, staring blankly at his cellmate. One of the guards, glanced over his shoulder, suddenly alert.

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

"H-He just moved...Did you see?"

The first guard eyed the Latino suspiciously. "I thought you said he wasn't breathing?"

"I...He wasn't!" he said, flustered. "But I swear to God, he just moved!"

The other guard shoved past Damian and knelt beside Andre, leaning his head down close to his face, listening for any sign he was breathing. He leapt back, startled, when Andre suddenly rolled over on to his side, groaning as if in terrible pain. Now that he was facing him, Murphy was able to get a clear look at Andre's face. His skin was a lot paler than would be deemed healthy and his eyes were discoloured, the iris a pale blue-white colour rather than their usual dark brown.

"Jesus!" the second guard said, horrified. "We need to get this guy to the infirmary, ASAP."

As he leaned over Andre, trying to haul him up into a sitting position, the injured man's gaze suddenly shifted, abruptly becoming more focused, more alert. Before anyone could do anything, Andre suddenly jerked upright and reached for the guard wrapping his fingers around his arm and bit into his hand. The man screamed in fear and pain, trying to wrench his fingers free. Damian yelled out in surprise, stumbling back and tripping on his own feet, collapsing on the floor in the corner. The other guard leapt into action and pulled out his gun, aiming it and firing off a few rounds into Andre's chest.

He hardly seemed to even notice the bullets.

As the guard fired off yet another round, he glanced up at the sound and with a animalistic snarl, suddenly lunged at him, knocking him to the floor, completely indifferent to his screams of terror. Andre sank his teeth into the man's throat and screaming was quickly cut off as blood dribbled from between his lips.

Murphy, unable to take anymore, promptly turned his back and retched. His brother stood staring in horrified fascination, unable to look away. As the younger twin straightened up, trying his best to ignore the sounds of tearing flesh behind him.

At that moment, there was a sudden muted click. The lights above them flickered dangerously, before going out completely, plunging the inmates into total darkness.

And then all hell broke loose.


	3. Massacre

Murphy could barely hear himself think over the clamouring of the other inmates. He clamped his hands over his ears, trying to block out the noise, trying to clear his head to think. He was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that he had just witnessed Andre tearing into a guard's throat like it was a piece of steak or something. He had to hold back the sudden urge to throw up again.

The younger twin flinched, alarmed when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder but he relaxed when he realized it was only Connor.

"Murph? Y'alright?" his voice was raised considerably to be heard over the racket the others were making.

"Aye, m'fine." He replied. "What the fuck's happened? Why're all the lights off?"

"Dunno. Think they must've had a power cut or something."

"Power cut?" Murphy frowned. "Aren't the doors locked electronically?"

"Aye, so wha'?"

"So if there's no power, then...what's keeping the doors shut?"

There was a pause and Murphy was sure he could hear the wheels turning in his brother's head. He swore and made a sudden run for the door. There was a clang of metal as he yanked the door open, charging out in to the hall with his younger twin right on his heels. The two stumbled around blindly in the dark, struggling to get a sense of direction. It wasn't long before the other inmates came to the same realization the brothers had, and within seconds, the previously empty corridor was crowded with prisoners all yelling and screeching and pushing and shoving, all desperate to make their escape. The noise was deafening. And the fact that it was all happening in the pitch black wasn't helping. Murphy could hardly see his own hand in front of his face.

"_Murph_!"

He whirled round at the sound of his brothers voice, panicking when he realized his brother was no longer at his side.

"_Connor_!" he yelled back, straining to hear his twin's reply over the racket. When he didn't get a response, he started shoving his way forward through the crowd, still shouting for his brother. Someone hit back at him as he pushed past, managing to catch him on his cheek. He ducked down, trying to avoid any more punches and another invisible attacker stomped on his foot. He stumbled, just managing to keep himself upright. He knew that at a time like this falling on his face would most likely result in getting trampled to death.

After what felt like many terrifying hours of staggering around in the maze of dark, narrow hallways, Murphy lurched forward, following the crowd through a pair of swinging doors into a much larger room. He still struggled to find his brother, calling his name again and again, each time hoping to hear a reply. An inmate shoved past him, knocking him into a wall and he reeled back, his head spinning.

"_Connor_!" he yelled again, trying to fight off the waves of dizziness. He thought he heard someone calling his name from ahead of him and spun around, pushing himself off the wall and stumbling on through the crowd. It was then that he suddenly realized he could actually see the outlines of the prisoners rushing past him. Even if it was weak and illuminated very little, there was still light somewhere! He turned his head, desperately trying to find the source, and spotted a set of doors on the other side of the room, where the light seemed to be coming from. He headed towards them, frantically fighting his way through the horde of people to reach the doors.

All at once, he abruptly found himself outside in the front courtyard of Hoag. The rain was pouring down with a vengeance and Murphy was drenched in seconds. He glanced up, squinting in the sudden bright light. His gaze fell on the floodlight up in the watchtower, which had been turned on full blast, bathing the front courtyard in an eerie pale light. He heard a sudden scream, followed by a gunshot.

And then the overpowering stench of blood hit him like a punch in the face.

It took him a second to register what he was seeing, and when he did, he was very nearly sick all over again. There were dead bodies in every direction he turned, littered all over the concrete. Blood ran in rivers across the ground, tinting the puddles at his feet red. He found himself at a complete loss for what to do. Panic quickly ensued as the other inmates saw the bloodbath outside. Some of them shoved past him, running in blind terror across the courtyard; others turned back, unbelievably fighting to get back inside the prison they had been desperate to escape from only seconds before.

Murphy stumbled forward on unsteady legs, trying his best to avoid looking at the dead surrounding him. His attention was drawn to a small group of people huddled around a body laying not five feet from him. He hesitated, his curiosity getting the better of him. Judging from the black uniform the man was wearing it was probably a security guard. For a moment, it almost looked like the group was mourning him. Then he looked closer and saw the blood covering his clothes and the gaping cavity in his chest. Murphy watched, horrified, as one of the people surrounding him stuck their hand in and tore out a chunk of flesh, cramming it into their mouth.

"Jesus _Christ_..." he gasped. "The fuck is wrong with you people?"

The man kneeling closest to him suddenly twitched, and his head jerked up. Murphy's blood ran cold when he saw his eyes; they were the same pale blue-white colour Andre's had been. The front of his shirt was completely covered in blood and there was a huge gaping wound in his cheek. The younger twin stumbled back as the man lurched unsteadily to his feet, his hands outstretched towards him.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Murphy yelled, his voice shaking. "I fuckin' mean it; don't-"

The man lunged at him and he only just managed to duck in time, narrowly avoiding his clutching fingers. The man's momentum threw him off balance and he staggered on a few steps, before he turned back around, snarling as he faced the younger McManus. Without wasting any time he whirled round and broke into a run, wanting more than anything to put as much distance between himself and that fucking psycho as possible. He raced across the courtyard towards the front gates, and had almost made it when he glanced once over his shoulder and saw something that made him stop in his tracks.

Standing a good few feet away, looking dazed, was Connor. His hair was plastered to his forehead from the rain and his trousers were soaked in blood, up to his knees. He suddenly glanced up, his gaze falling on his younger brother. The expression of relief on his face was mirrored Murphy's own, and he found himself smiling despite the carnage he had just seen. Abruptly, his gaze shifted to the left, over his shoulder and the smile was instantly wiped off his face, to be replaced with a look of absolute horror.

"_Murph!_" He yelled frantically. "Y'have to-"

There was a sudden explosion of pain in the back of his skull and he pitched forward, collapsing face down on the concrete. He was unable to hear anything over the shrill ringing in his ears, which blocked out everything else. The world spun violently around him as he tried to get back on his feet. He blinked the rainwater out of his eyes and glanced up.

Only to find himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

He found himself remembering the last time he'd been in this situation; almost ten years ago in some back alley in Boston. Except this time, instead of seeing the grinning face of the Russian gangster Chekov, he found himself staring up at Marco Salvati.

"How's it going, mick?" he sneered, a smug smirk on his face. Murphy stayed silent, keeping his gaze level on the other man. He knew it didn't matter how much he wanted to start hurling abuse back at him; he'd only end up getting himself killed faster. Besides, he knew it pissed him off way more when he didn't get the reaction he wanted.

Marco suddenly pulled back his clenched fist and punched the younger McManus in the face, catching him on his left temple. Murphy gritted his teeth, holding back the string of curses he wanted to throw at the Italian, who was now scowling heatedly.

"You think you're pretty smart don't you?" he snarled.

"Smarter than you, aye." Murphy grinned. The smile was instantly gone when Marco shoved the gun barrel against his forehead.

"Bet you won't be laughing if I pull the fuckin' trigger." He hissed maliciously.

"_Murph_!" Connor yelled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his brother come sprinting towards them, slipping and sliding on the wet ground.

"You take a step closer and I'll blow his fuckin' brains out." Marco said grimly, loud enough for him to hear.

Connor skidded to a sudden halt, his gaze darting between Marco and his brother, the panic palpable in his eyes. But he couldn't do anything from where he was standing. He could see his only option was to try and bargain with him.

"Marco!" he called, trying to get the Italians' attention. "Look, don't...don't fuckin' hurt him, alright?"

Macro grinned, infuriatingly arrogant; clearly enjoying his position of power. "Or what?" he sneered. "What the fuck're you gonna do, McManus?"

He hesitated for a second, choosing his words carefully. "Look...I don't care if it's revenge or retribution y'want. Fuckin' shoot me if it's gonna make you feel better. Just leave m'brother alone."

Murphy blinked, struggling to process what he'd just heard. "Connor what the fuck're you talking about?" he bellowed, furious. "Don't fuckin' say shit like that!"

"Shut up!" Marco barked, turning his attention back to the younger brother, his finger poised on the trigger of the gun.

"Shoot me you fuckin' bastard!" Connor yelled, growing desperate. "M'right here! _Shoot me_!"

Marco kept his gaze firmly on Murphy, ignoring the older brother's pleas, ignoring everything around him. He didn't even notice the figure of the man hovering behind him. Not until it was too late. Not until he'd planted a hand on his shoulder and sank his bloody teeth deep into his neck. Marco screamed in pain, his eyes wide with horror as they fell on the bloodied face of the man tearing into him. Murphy saw his chance and promptly took it, batting the hand holding the gun away from him. The weapon flew out of his hand and, with a clatter, went spinning across the concrete. With nothing to stop him now, the younger twin scrambled to his feet, and broke into a run, glancing back as Marco let out a another blood-curdling scream. Another two people had appeared to surround Marco, and Murphy watched in horror as a bedraggled woman in a bloodied nightdress sank into her teeth into his arm, tearing away at his flesh.

He turned away, sickened, and nearly leapt out of his skin when he felt a hand on his own shoulder. He spun around, poised for an attack, only to find himself staring into the face of his brother.

"_Christ_, Connor." He chided. "Y'trying give me a fuckin' heart attack?"

"Sorry." His voice was shaking a little. "I just...m'glad yer alright."

Murphy nodded. "Aye. M'self as well."

There was another horrific scream from Marco, startling them both. Connor tightened his grip on his brothers' arm.

"C'mon. We need to get the fuck outta here."

Murphy nodded and the two headed towards what was left of the front gates of Hoag; breaking into a run as they entered the streets of Boston. Immediately, the younger brother felt a sense of unease, mainly because of the darkness surrounding them. None of the streetlamps lining the pavement were on and the only source of light was from the dull grey sky, which was slowly brightening as dawn drew closer. By the looks of it, things weren't much better outside of the prison than they were in it. As they crossed the deserted, empty road; their feet splashing noisily in the large puddles, they heard the sound of a shrieking siren. Connor pulled him into a darkened doorway as an ambulance roared past them, blue lights flashing. Murphy couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw what looked like a streak of blood on the back door of the vehicle as it drove away from them. They waited until the noise had died down before they moved on into the next street. Murphy perked up at the distant wailing of a car alarm, echoing somewhere behind them. Then without warning there was a sudden explosion of gunfire from the street across from them, followed by a horrified scream.

"The _fuck_ was that?" Murphy hissed, his anxiety steadily growing.

"Dunno." Connor replied quickly, his face grim. "But we have to keep moving."

"Aye...righ'." he agreed.

They continued on at brisk half-run for a couple more blocks, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the prison as possible. It was still too dark to read any street signs, so Murphy wasn't entirely sure where they were when Connor suddenly stopped in his tracks, causing him to crash into his back.

"_Ow!" _he protested. "Connor what the fuck're you–"

"Shut up! We've got to go back!" Connor hissed, trying to shove him in the other direction.

"What? Why?" Murphy glanced over his brother's shoulder catching sight of red and blue flashing lights. "Shit! S'that the fuckin' police?"

"Aye."

"How the fuck're we gonna get around them?"

Connor didn't reply, too busy watching the street ahead of him. Murphy peered over his brother's shoulder trying to get a better look. There were around five cruisers, parked all the way across the road, blocking them off that way. They _could _try going along the street in the opposite direction from them, but it would be risky; considering they were wanted criminals and there were around six or more police officers standing there. They were outnumbered and had no way to defend themselves against the police, who all had their guns drawn and looked more than ready to use them. Without warning there was a cry of alarm from one of the officers and when Murphy turned to look he saw a man latching on to his arm, his teeth snapping at his neck. Simultaneously, the others suddenly turned and raised their guns, opening fire on the attacker. But the man hardly seemed to even notice the bullets thudding into him. Connor flinched as one of the shells caught the man on his temple, causing him to shed blood and he dropped back into the alleyway, turning to go.

"Let's get the fuck outta here." He said.

"Eh? The fuck're y'talking about?" Murphy said. "There's an openin' righ' across from us; we could easily make it over before any of 'em even notice us."

"We're not gonna do that." Connor said firmly.

"Why the fuck not? They're not even lookin' at us; it'll only take two fuckin' seconds to cross-"

"Murph, don't fuckin' argue. We're turnin' back, alright?"

Murphy scowled. "Don't fuckin' talk to me like tha'! Yer m'brother; yer not m'fuckin Ma!" He scrambled to his feet and before Connor could stop him he had shoved past him and sprinted up the pavement, ducking down behind a van parked at the side of the road. He checked the coast was clear before he made a break for the other side.

"Murph!" Connor hissed desperately. "Murph, come back!"

But his brother had already made it across and disappeared into the alleyway on the other side of the road. Unable to do anything from where he was, Connor crouched down and watched, his heart thudding. After a few seconds, his brother reappeared, unharmed and grinning.

"You fuckin' idiot." He muttered to himself. There was another explosion of gunshots and Murphy quickly disappeared again.

Having no choice now, _but _to move; Connor glanced back in the direction of the police cruisers, checking they were still occupied before he braced himself and ran out into the road, crossing the street and ducking into a shop doorway on the other side. He held his breath, hoping no one had seen him, and checked the street again, just to make doubly sure he hadn't been spotted. Thankfully, not one of them appeared to have even noticed him and he stepped back down on to the sidewalk, turning to leave, only to collide with the figure of a woman, that had seemingly materialised out of nowhere. He froze, catching sight of blood on her clothes and steadied himself to run. She whirled round to face him and he was surprised by the tears streaming down her cheeks and the desperation in her eyes. His gaze dropped to the limp body of a child she was holding in her arms. It looked like a little boy; no more than five or six years old and he was wrapped in a bloody blanket.

"You have to help me!" she sobbed. "M-My son's...he's been attacked!"

Connor hesitated, feeling torn. Half of him was desperate to get back to his brother; especially after what had happened with Marco earlier, he didn't want to risk anyone getting to him and trying to hurt him again. On the other hand, he couldn't very well just ignore this woman's pleas for help; it wasn't the right thing to do, especially while she was suffering like that.

"There's not...I can't do tha' much for him." He said carefully. "M'not a doctor or anything, I'm just-"

"I don't _care_." The woman said, cutting him off. "I just want someone to _help me_. I don't know what do to with him! H-He's got a terrible fever and h-he's burning up a-and..." She broke down, crying so hard she was unable to speak.

Connor paused, suddenly feeling uneasy. There was something about this whole scenario that seemed horribly familiar.

"Wha' happened to him?" he asked cautiously.

The woman shook her head, in a daze. "I don't know. H-He's...he was outside in our street, just playing and...some _psychopath _just attacked him. For no reason at all. He had these awful scratches all down his arms and h-he took a huge bite him out of his shoulder..." she trailed off as more tears flowed down her cheeks. "He was...there was just _so much _blood. He was so scared. The man...H-He just came out of nowhere, gave him such a fright." Her gaze wandered to the little face peeking out of the blankets. "My poor little baby..."

The older twin glanced down at the small bundle in her arms. The boy's face seemed unnaturally pale; the only colour coming from a small smudge of blood on his cheek. He couldn't be entirely sure, but it looked to him like the child wasn't breathing.

"Freddie, sweetheart." The woman was speaking again, her tone frantic, as she addressed her son, searching his face for a sign of life. "I told you not to sleep didn't I? You have to stay awake for Mommy, okay darling? Y-You have to keep your eyes open like I said; you can't sleep you _can't _do have to wake up for me baby. Freddie? _Freddie_!"

Connor took a slight step back, as the mother continued to babble, her voice growing more and more shrill. There was a little voice in the back of his mind, urging him to run but he couldn't move. His feet felt glued to the pavement. The woman glanced up, her eyes wide with panic.

"You have to help me!" she said again, her voice shaking. "Something's wrong; I don't think he's breathing! Something's wrong with my baby!"

He shook his head slowly, taking another step back. "M'sorry." He said softly. "I'm so, so sorry..."

"Hey! What're you doing?"

He jumped at the sound of a voice behind him and whirled round to see a police officer striding towards them. His heart leapt into his throat and he shot the woman an apologetic look before he spun on his heel and made a break for the side street his brother had disappeared into. He half expected the police officer to come chasing after him, sure he must've recognised him as a prisoner from Hoag, as one of the infamous Saints. But nobody pursued him. It appeared he hadn't even been noticed. Clearly the man's attention was directed elsewhere.

"Officer!" he heard the woman cry behind him; sounding relieved. "Thank God! My little boy's been hurt; he was attacked by some mad man and I need help getting him to-"

Her voice was cut off by the sudden unmistakeable sound of a gunshot. Connor stopped. There was a long, agonising moment of silence, broken by a single scream of immense pain from the woman. That was enough to break him out of his shock, and he started to run again, trying to force down the panic that was threatening to overtake him. He reached the end of the alley and stopped for breath, absentmindedly wondering where his brother had gone. He got his answer only a second later.

"_Connor_!"

He froze at the unmistakeable sound of his brother's voice; his worst fears confirmed. Murphy was in trouble! The sense of panic he'd felt before had increased tenfold and he broke into a sprint, reaching the end of the alleyway and turning the corner into a main street. He scrambled through the space between two parked cars, out into the empty road only to have Murphy suddenly reappear and crash into him with almost enough force to knock him over.

"Murph!" he cried. "_Jesus, _are y'alright?"

He shook his head frantically, grabbing a hold of his arm and pulling. "You've got t'run!" He yelled. "Those crazy fuck's are comin' after us!"

Connor frowned. "What? The fuck're you talking-?"

He glanced over his shoulder and saw just what Murphy was talking him about. Lumbering up the street towards them was a group of around seven or eight blood soaked people, with disturbingly colourless eyes. They had the same deathly pale skin and vacant expressions that Andre had had. All of a sudden every single instinct in his body was screaming at him to run.

"C'mon! This way!" Murphy turned and sprinted across the road, heading for a side street leading away from the main one, with Connor following right behind him. The younger twin charged into the alley, took about two steps and skidded to an abrupt stop. Connor came to a standstill beside him, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. Ahead of them, at the other end of the alley there was a small group of people kneeling on the dirty ground; crowded around the remains of what looked like some sort of animal, most likely a dog, tearing away bloody handfuls of meat and shoving it into their mouths. They had completely blocked off the only exit the brothers had. There was no way, absolutely no way, they would be able to get past them without being seen. He heard the sound of animalistic snarls coming from behind them. He glanced back to see the others stumbling into the alleyway, practically falling over each other in their haste to reach them. In that moment he felt his heart sink as he came to the realization that there wasn't going to be any way out of this.

They were both going to die.

He found that, amidst the mess of incoherent thoughts in his mind, there was only one that was registering with complete clarity: he _had _to protect his brother, for as long as he possibly could. He glanced at his younger twin, but Murphy wasn't looking back at him. He was watching the group clustered around the dog. One man, kneeling closest to them, had suddenly glanced up, blood running down his chin; his pale eyes focusing on Murphy. He felt his heart leap into his throat as he stumbled to his feet and lurched towards them.

Murphy swore under his breath, and stepped back, trying desperately to find a way out for them. Suddenly he spotted a dull glow of green light on the wall to the left of them that he recognized as a fire escape sign. There was a door directly underneath it, that had been half hidden as it was set back into the brick wall. He realized abruptly that he could be looking at their only way to escape and ran for it. He picked up a discarded glass bottle lying on the filthy ground and launched it at the snarling man limping towards him. It caught him square in the forehead, shattering into pieces. The man stumbled, his knees suddenly buckling under him and he fell to the ground. Murphy lunged for the door, laughing triumphantly and shoved it.

But it _wouldn't open_.

His smile faded and he tried again, the sudden panic making his hands shake almost uncontrollably; shoving harder this time. He felt it shift the tiniest bit, but it still wasn't enough for him to get through. He aimed a furious kick at the door and he heard something scraping against the floor on the other side. He realized that someone must have barricaded it shut, and it was going to take more than just him to get it open.

"_Connor_!" he yelled over his shoulder. "C'mon; you've got to help me!"

"Fuck off!" he heard his brother shout. For a moment he thought he was talking to him, until he glanced back to see Connor shoving a woman away from him. She had obviously been part of the group pursuing them and had gotten too close; close enough to grab on to him. She had gone so very close to biting him, but at his push she had been thrown off balance; stumbling backwards and knocking over a few others which bought them a few more precious seconds. Connor raced to get to Murphy and with their combined effort, they door started to give a little more. Behind the wood, there was a loud bang as something fell over inside and the door abruptly fell open almost halfway, leaving just enough room for the brothers to get through. Connor insistently shoved Murphy in first, quickly following after him, just as the woman he'd knocked over before reached them. With a snarl she reached over and grabbed on to the collar of Connors shirt, trying to pull him back.

"_Hey_!" Murphy yelled, enraged. "Get yer fuckin' hands off him, y'crazy bitch!"

He leaned over his brother and punched her, clipping her on her temple. She hardly even reacted to the blow, opening her mouth and snapping at his hand, trying to bite his fingers. Murphy gathered up what little strength he had left and kicked her right on her kneecap. Her leg buckled and she released her hold on his brother, collapsing in a heap, just outside the doorway. Connor fell forward into the narrow stairwell, tripping over a table that had been used to barricade the door. And banging his knees hard on the concrete floor. Murphy flung himself against the door, closing it quickly so that no one else could get inside. Seconds after he'd got it closed, he felt someone slamming their fists against it, trying to force it open again.

"Connor!" he hissed, frantic. "Help me put this shit back!"

Connor pulled himself up off the floor and scrambled to help his brother. They managed to rebuild the heap of furniture that they'd knocked down when getting in. The brothers made sure the door seemed secure enough before they turned and sped up the stairs, collapsing in a heap on the landing as their exhaustion suddenly caught up to them. Downstairs, Murphy could still here the furious thudding of fists on the door as the people outside hammered away, determined to get in. The noise soon died down after a few minutes, as they lost interest. Murphy stayed silent, still trying to catch his breath; feeling completely drained now that the adrenaline had worn off. He was still hardly able to believe their luck. They'd come so close to getting killed; it seemed nothing short of a miracle that they'd survived and he felt the need to say a silent prayer of thanks.

Next to him, he felt Connor suddenly stiffen, catching his breath. He realized abruptly that they weren't alone and glanced up.

And for the second time that night, Murphy found himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

* * *

**AN: I'll admit this chapter hasn't gone quite as well as I'd hoped. But I wanted to update as soon as possible for all you beautiful, wonderful, magnificent people that reviewed. So, yeah. You're fucking welcome. And thanks again for all the lovely positive feedback. It's really appreciated. :)**


	4. Sanctuary

It seemed almost like some sort of cruel, twisted joke. They'd managed to survive the horrific massacre outside in the streets, barely escaping with their lives only seconds before, and now, just when they thought they were safe, they found themselves at the wrong end of a gun. Again.

"You bit?" the man holding the weapon asked abruptly, his grey eyes narrowed in suspicion as he surveyed the two brothers.

"The fuck're you talkin' about?" Murphy asked, scowling.

"Just answer the Goddamn question." He snapped, shifting the position of the gun so it was pointed towards the younger brother. "Are you _bit_?"

Connor found himself remembering Andre and what he had turned into after being attacked and, with a jolt, suddenly realized just what he was referring to.

"No." He replied quickly. "We've not been bitten."

He could see Murphy, out of the corner of his eye, looking at him questioningly, but he ignored him, keeping his attention fixed on the man with the gun, who eyed the older twin doubtfully, his gaze dropping to his trouser legs which were soaked in blood up to the knees.

"If you ain't bitten," he said, "Then why're you covered in blood?"

Connor hesitated, knowing there was nothing he could say to explain himself without making the situation worse. But before he could get a chance to talk, there was the sound of a door slamming on the floor above them, followed by rapid footsteps. The three men glanced up simultaneously, in time to see a girl poke her head over the railing.

"What's going on?" she called down. "Has something happened?" Her gaze fell on the McManus brothers and her eyes widened. "Who're they?"

"No one." The man answered, rather sternly. "How 'bout you go back to your friends; let me handle this?"

"Steph!" There was a sudden shout from somewhere further down the corridor, and the girl glanced over her shoulder, frowning.

"What?"

"Don't go running off like that! We're _supposed_ to be staying inside. Why're you-"

"Someone came in!" she interrupted. "Two people, in fact. I think they were out on the streets; maybe...they might've seen Zoë."

Murphy tilted his head back, craning his neck to get a better look at the landing above them and spotted a blonde girl, around the same age as the first, standing a few feet away from the railing. She glanced down and happened to spot him, her face paling when she noticed the blue prison uniform he wore. In a couple of strides she crossed the hall and grabbed her friend by the wrist, hauling her away from the stairs.

"Are you out of your _mind_?" she hissed.

The other girl wrenched her hand away. "What the hell is the matter with you? What're you talking about?"

"Those people downstairs are _criminals._" At her friend's blank look she rolled her eyes, exasperated. "You can't honestly tell me you don't recognise them? They were all over the news only a couple of weeks ago. They murdered something like twenty people!"

There was a pause while the other girl processed this and Connor groaned inwardly. With everything that had happened and all that they had witnessed, he had completely forgotten the fact that they were wanted men. Then again, they weren't the only ones that had escaped from Hoag that night; a part of him had been hoping that they would be able to get away before the police even realized they were at large. But that wasn't likely to happen now they'd been recognised.

"Who cares about that?" he heard the other girl, Steph, whispering. "I think we have more important things to worry about right now."

The second girl blinked, taken aback. "_More important things_?" she repeated disbelievingly. "What could we possibly have to worry about that's worse than having two murderers in our apartment building?"

"I don't know, Al!" Steph shrieked. "How about the fact that there are people fucking _eating _each other outside on the street. My _sister _is out there for Christ's sake!"

"Keep your voice down." The blonde girl said harshly. "You're going to wake everyone up."

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down!" her friend cried. "You have _no right_ to tell me to calm down! Everything's simple for you. Everyone you care about is safe! My parents are in New York, I haven't heard from them in over three days and my little sister is God knows where-"

"That's not _my _fucking fault!"

A door slammed loudly from somewhere further down the hall and an elderly woman appeared, wearing only a nightdress and a pair of slippers on her feet; her face thunderous. On seeing her, the girls immediately fell silent.

"I've had just about all I can take of you two." She snarled. "It's four o'clock in the morning and yet you _still _insist on screaming the whole place down. How about you have a bit of consideration for the rest of us who are_ trying to sleep_."

She turned back towards the staircase, her gaze happening to fall on the McManus brothers who were still sitting on the landing below, flanked by the man with the gun. On seeing them, she gave a sudden cry of alarm and stumbled back.

"Oh my Lord!" She gasped. "It's _them_! It's those two serial killers."

"Oh, _Christ_..." Murphy muttered under his breath.

"How on _earth_ did they get in here?" the woman continued, her tone frantic. She eyed the man standing beside the brothers warily. "You didn't actually _let _them in, did you Steve?"

He scoffed. "'Course I never let them in. I was jus'...I couldn't sleep an' I was outside in the hall when I heard someone breaking in downstairs. I brought my gun jus' in case it was one of.._.them_...only to find these two instead."

"Well, we can't have them in here." She said resolutely, arms folded. "I won't feel safe with a pair of convicted murderers in the same building as me."

"What d'you suggest we do?" he asked. "Just throw them back out into the street?"

"Of course! Like I said, we can't have them in here. They're dangerous criminals."

Murphy couldn't keep quiet at that. He leap to his feet, livid. "Are you outta yer fuckin' mind woman!" he yelled. "Have y'seen what it's like out there? S'fuckin' _carnage_!"

"Yes, I _know _what it's like." The woman hissed at him. "But I guess you'll just have to take your chances, won't you?"

Connor got up off the concrete floor to join his brother. "Hang on a fuckin' minute." He said, trying to think of something to say to diffuse the situation. "Let's be serious here. Y'can't _really_ throw us out; you've got no reason to. We're not a threat to any of you."

"Not a threat?" she said, incredulously. "You're a pair of cold-hearted _killers_. Of course you're a bloody threat!"

Murphy could see Connor was struggling to keep his cool. "Aye, so we've killed." He admitted. "But y'have to understand our reasoning; these were bad people, horrible people. Rapists, murders, mobsters; scum o' the earth. None of you have anythin' to worry about. We'd never, _ever _even think f'hurtin' some one who was innocent."

The woman looked particularly unconvinced by this. "You can try and dress it up however you want." She sneered. "But there's nothing you can say that will justify murder. Not to me. Now if you're quite finished, I think it would be best if you both left."

"We're not fuckin' going anywhere." Murphy said determinedly.

The woman scowled, her expression darkening with fury at the rebuttal, but before she could say anymore, the sound of a voice calling from upstairs cut her off.

"Dad? Where are you?"

The man holding the gun, who had fallen silent during the exchange between the McManus brothers and the elderly woman, glanced up suddenly, shoving his way past them to stand at the foot of the stairs.

"I'm down here." He replied hastily. "I'll be up in a minute; just go back inside, Jess."

A young woman suddenly appeared at the top of the staircase, one floor above the others. She ran a hand through her tousled brown hair tiredly; her expression brightening slightly when she spotted the man at the bottom of the stairs.

"Jesus, you have to warn me before you go off and disappear like that. You had me worried." She chided. "What're you doing down here anyway?"

Her gaze fell on Connor and Murphy and she froze, coming to an abrupt halt halfway down the stairs. The older twin cursed under his breath, expecting her to react the same way the others had. He was mildly surprised when she remained silent.

"Can you believe it?" the older woman seemed to feel the need to speak up at her lack of response. "It's those serial killers that were on the news the last few weeks; the ones that-"

"Yeah, I'm fully aware of who they are, Grace. I'm not a fucking idiot." The brunette replied sharply, causing the other woman to scowl irritably. She turned her attention back to the twins, clambering down the last few stairs to the landing, eyeing them thoughtfully.

"You're both soaking." She said after a pause. "Why don't you come upstairs; I can get you something dry to wear?"

Both brothers stayed quiet; neither of them able to believe what they'd just heard. It had seemed like everyone had been completely against them from the moment they'd walked in, and now, just when it seemed like they were going to get thrown back out into the chaos ridden streets, someone was actually, unbelievably, showing them some compassion.

"Are you completely out of your mind?" the elderly woman asked, aghast. "These people are murderers and you're actually offering them _clothes_? What is _wrong _with you?"

"Grace, do me a favour, alright?" the brunette said, "Just shut the fuck up, for once in your Goddamn life."

She turned and started making her way back up the stairs, not paying any attention to the other woman who sniffed disapprovingly.

"Some mother you are," she called after her spitefully, "Bad enough that you would endanger your own life by bringing a pair of _killers _into your home; even worse, you're putting your children's lives at risk too!"

The younger woman suddenly froze hallway up the staircase and whirled round, her expression dark with rage.

"You can say whatever the hell you want about me," she hissed, "But don't you fucking _dare _even _try_ to suggest that I don't care about my kids! You have absolutely _no fucking right_-"

"Jess." Her father shook his head at her by way of a warning. "Just leave it."

She shot him a filthy look; her gaze darting between him and the old woman before coming to rest again on the McManus brothers. She took a deep shuddering breath to steady herself.

"Fine." She said curtly. "You're right. That bitch isn't worth wasting my time on." She spun on her heel and, ignoring the look of disgust on the elderly woman's face, stomped up the stairs and reached the next landing, turning to glance over her shoulder at the twins.

"You coming or not?" She asked impatiently.

Connor shared a look with his brother and, knowing that they didn't have much of an alternative, followed the woman upstairs, her father right behind them.

"I can't honestly believe this." Murphy heard the woman saying below them. "There must be something seriously wrong with that girl." Her slippers made a scuffling noise as she shuffled back to her own apartment and he managed to catch the last of her speech before the door slammed shut again. "I'm calling the police, since no one else is going to..."

The younger twin felt his stomach flip over. They wouldn't be able to stay here for much longer if the police were to be called in. The last thing the two of them needed was to end up back at Hoag. But then again, they couldn't very well leave now. It wasn't exactly safe to be out on the streets anymore.

"I wouldn't look so worried." The brunette spoke up suddenly, bringing him abruptly out of his thoughts. He glanced up at her and she gave him a half-hearted smile. "Calling the police isn't going to do much."

"What d'you mean?" Connor asked.

She paused, coming to a stop outside a door at the end of the hallway, before turning to face the brothers, a bewildered look on her face.

"You really don't know anything that's been going on, do you?" she asked after a slight pause.

"'Course not. We've been in prison for Christ's sake!" Murphy said angrily.

She blinked, a little taken aback by his outburst. "Figures..." she muttered, before turning and shoving open the door, quickly disappearing into the apartment. Connor hesitated only briefly before following her inside, his brother and the girls' father right behind him. He found himself in a narrow, gloomy hallway; lit only by a bare, dusty bulb hanging from the ceiling. A few steps along and the small corridor opened up into a cramped living room. An old worn sofa and a matching armchair faced a TV set shoved up against the wall. A half empty bookshelf sat in the far corner and next to that someone had hung a trio of framed photographs. The faded blue patterned wallpaper was torn away in places, exposing the dull concrete wall beneath and the only natural light came from a tiny window on the opposite wall. It had been opened a crack and from somewhere outside they could hear the distant shriek of a police siren.

"I'll get you something to wear in a second." The woman reappeared from around the car, a couple of towels slung over her arm. She handed one to each brother and took a step back, glancing around the small room ruefully.

"I know it isn't much." She said with a sad smile. "But it's the best we can get, given our situation..."

"Y'don't have to apologise for anything." Connor reassured her. "It don't matter to us what yer house is like; we're not here t'judge."

She nodded, and half-turned towards her father, who was standing guard by the front door. He still had the shotgun clasped in his hands.

"Christ, Dad." She said, scowling. "Would you put that thing away? You're scaring me."

"Right, sorry..." he shot a look at the McManus brothers before he continued along the corridor, disappearing out of sight; leaving the three alone in the tiny living room.

"Sorry about him." She grinned. "He's...He used to be in the military; it's kinda in his nature to be a little...overly aggressive, I guess." She glanced behind her towards the open doorway across the hall and took a step towards it. "Uh, I'll be right back."

She crossed the hallway, disappearing through the open doorway and leaving the brothers alone. Connor dropped his towel on the worn sofa after giving his hair a quick dry before he turned to his younger twin who was busying himself with towel drying his own hair.

"Murph? Would you stay through here for a second? M'gonna go have a word with the girl."

"Wha?" Murphy glanced up, flinging the towel over his shoulder and pushing back his still damp fringe. "Why?"

Connor stopped for a second before replying, his attention suddenly grabbed by a particularly large and nasty looking bruise on his brother's temple, from when he'd been punched by Marco. He hadn't noticed it before because of the darkness outside, but now, standing under the dim light, his twin's injuries were a lot more visible. He had almost completely forgotten how close he'd come to losing his brother that night, and the sudden reminder of it made him stop in his tracks.

Murphy glowered at him. "The fuck're you starin' at?" he snapped.

Connor shook it off. "Nothing. Jus'...you wait. I'll be right back."

Before Murphy could object, he had turned and crossed over the hall entering the same room she had disappeared into, which appeared to be the kitchen. The white tiled floor under his feet seemed cheap, but was kept immaculately clean and instead of wallpaper, the concrete walls had been painted a light, earthy colour. An old beat-up refrigerator and stove were crammed into one corner and the opposite wall was lined with wooden cabinets. The woman was standing at the sink on the other side of the room, scrubbing at a pile of dirty dishes and muttering under her breath to herself.

Connor stood for a few seconds, silently observing her, before he cleared his throat noisily, alerting her to his presence. She jumped, dropping the plate she was holding with a clatter and whirled round to face him.

"Jesus, don't sneak up on me like that!" she protested.

Connor smiled sheepishly. "M'sorry. I jus'..I wanted to thank you. Y'know, for not throwing as back out there and offerin' us clothes an' everything. Me and m'brother ...we really appreciate it...uh..." he hesitated. "What was yer name again?"

"It's Jess." She answered.

"Jess? S'that short for Jessica?"

"Yeah, but...I'd prefer just Jess." She said. "Jessica's what my Mom called me when she was pissed off with me."

"Righ'...well, f'there's every anythin' we can do to repay the favour, y'can just ask."

She laughed at that, though it was without much humour. "You don't have to repay me anything. You two have done more than enough for me already."

He frowned, bewildered. "What d'you mean?"

"Nothing." She said quickly. "I just...it's...really, nothing."

"Y'sure?"

She nodded hurriedly, avoiding meeting his gaze. There was definitely something she wasn't telling him, but he decided not to press the issue. From the living room there was a sudden thud as something hit the floor, followed by the clatter of breaking glass and Connor heard Murphy swear. A few seconds later he appeared in the doorway, clutching an object in his hands and looking rather shamefaced.

"Uh...one of yer pictures fell down." He said, holding out it to her. "Think the nail fell out or something. I never fuckin' touched it, though; I swear."

"Shit!" Jess crossed the room and snatched it out of his hands, turning it over carefully. Connor peered over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the photo; a blonde haired man with bright blue eyes and a kind face, grinning proudly at the camera while cradling a tiny bundle in his arms. A large crack ran down from the corner , almost splitting his head in half. The woman carefully tugged the photograph free of the frame, inspecting it closely for damage.

"Think the picture's alright." Murphy said, trying to reassure her. "S'just...the glass got broken."

"Yeah...But I don't think I have anymore frames I can put this in." She said.

The younger twin glanced down at the photograph in her hands, curious. "Who is that guy?"

"Oh...that's Jeremy with my daughter Danielle, the day we brought her home from the hospital. He's my husband." She paused. "Well, _was _my husband."

"Y'split up or something?" Murphy asked.

She shook her head, biting her lip nervously. "No, he...he's dead."

"Oh. Well, now I feel like a right fuckin' dick."

"Don't. You didn't know." She let out a heavy sigh. "It was a few years back now, but I still...every time I think about him I just..." She trailed off into silence, looking like she was struggling to hold back her tears.

"What happened to him?" Connor asked tentatively. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking?"

"No, I actually...I was kinda hoping you'd ask." She cleared her throat, trying to collect her thoughts before she spoke again. "I'm sure you're both familiar with the name Yakavetta?"

The brothers shared a look of incredulity. They were of course more than familiar with Joe Yakavetta; after all, he was the one who had shot and murdered their closest friend Rocco. It was his execution that had gained them infamy, when they'd shot him in court room full of witnesses. And it was only a couple of months earlier that they'd taken down his son Concezio, when he tried to frame them for the death of the Boston priest. What they were both wondering, though, was how this woman they had never even met knew about the notorious Italian family.

"My husband was a police officer." Jess said, by way of explanation. "He'd always been interested in a career in law enforcement. It seemed like the perfect profession for him too; he was always so keen to help people." She smiled lovingly at the picture. "It was about three years ago now. Word had been going around that Concezio Yakavetta was running a drug dealership at an abandoned warehouse down by the docks. Jeremy was part of the squad supposed to bring them in. Only problem was, Yakavetta knew they were coming. And he wasn't planning on going down without a fight. He was better prepared than the police were. He'd called in practically everyone in the syndicate, meaning Jeremy and his squad were completely outnumbered. 'Course they didn't know what they were walking into. I don't think any of them even expected Yakavetta to know they were coming." She stopped as a few more tears rolled down her cheeks, unchecked. "Of all the officers that went in...more than half of them came out in body bags." She choked back on a sob, as yet more tears fell. She managed to quickly get a hold of herself and continued on, relentlessly.

"One of Jeremy's friends on the force, Tony, I think his name was...he got shot down. He was bleeding to death on the floor of the warehouse and Jeremy, completely indifferent to his own safety was trying to help him. He didn't even care about the mobsters shooting at him; he just wanted to protect his friend." She smiled faintly at the thought. "He was like that, always putting others before himself." The smile quickly disappeared. "It was at that moment, when he was at his most vulnerable that Concezio came up behind him and...shot him. Right in the back of the head. He didn't even see it coming..."

She shook her head, letting out a heavy sigh. "For me, the worst thing; even worse than the fact that my I lost the love of my life, was the fact that Yakavetta managed to walk away from it all completely unharmed. Despite all the lives he'd ended, despite all the families he'd torn apart; he got away. And just to add insult to injury, there was no way he could be taken in for it because of his status. None of the police could really touch him; he was too high up. I just...I got so _angry_, thinking about it. I was devastated; the fact that my children were going to have to grow up without knowing their daddy it just...it almost killed me. But then you two came along..." she smiled slightly, though her tears. "I couldn't believe it when I heard Yakavetta was dead. It was just...a weight off my shoulders, I guess. I mean, his death might not have brought my Jeremy back, but still..."she shrugged. "It gave me peace of mind, knowing that my husband's killer had been brought to justice. Thanks to you two."

Murphy grinned back at her. "There's no need to thank us, really." He said with a shrug. "We're just doing God's work."

"'Destroy all that which is evil, so that which is good may flourish." Connor said quietly.

"Aye..."

A comfortable silence descended upon the room as the three became lost in their own thoughts for a few precious moments. The peace was abruptly broken by the sound of tiny feet pitter pattering down the hall and a second later, a small girl appeared in the doorway, her big blue eyes widening when they fell upon the brothers.

"Mommy?" she asked, turning to look at Jess. "Who's that?" She pointed a tiny finger accusatorially at Murphy.

"They're just...friends of Mommy's." She replied quickly, glancing up at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. "It's not even five thirty yet, you shouldn't even be up. Go on, back to bed."

"But I'm not tired." The child whined. "A-And I don't want to go to sleep."

"Why not?"

"I...I'm scared..."

Her mother smiled sympathetically. "Have you been having bad dreams again?"

The girl nodded her head, clutching the small teddy bear in her hand closer to her chest. Her mother sighed and then crossed the room to stand beside her, resting a hand on her blonde curls.

"I guess you can go watch something on TV then. Just for a little while. And don't have it up too loud, okay?"

The girl nodded eagerly and whirled round, rushing out into the hall and disappearing from sight. She reappeared only moments later, seemingly having something else on her mind.

"Mommy?" she asked uncertainly. "Can I...Will I be going back to school today?"

The brunette paled slightly. "No, sorry Ellie sweetheart. Not today."

"Oh. Okay..." Looking more than a little disappointed, she turned and crossed the narrow hall into the living room. A few seconds later there was a muted click and the TV blared to life.

"What did she mean about going to school?" Murphy asked, once he was sure she wasn't listening in anymore. "Is it closed or something?"

"Wouldn't be surprised with all that shit going on outside that we saw." His brother remarked.

The woman nodded. "All the public schools in Boston have been shut down for almost two weeks now. This illness or whatever it is that's going around...it's highly contagious and they thought it would get passed around a lot quicker with the kids all together so they just...sent them all home one day. Without warning." She spared a glance towards the living room. "I've been keeping her inside almost all the time. She's been bored out of her skull for days, but there's nothing I can do about that. I'd much rather she was bored, though, than having her out there when I don't know if she'll be safe or not, y'know?"

"Aye, s'pose." Connor agreed.

She sighed. "The thing is; I don't know how bad this virus has gotten now. I don't watch the news anymore. I can't. Some of the footage they showed it was just...horrific and I didn't want my little girl having to see that. I guess I'd just rather she stayed ignorant to what was going on."

"What _is _going on?" Murphy asked. "'Cause I'm still tryin' to figure this shit out."

She smiled, though it didn't really reach her eyes. "Honestly? I don't even know what to tell you. I don't know anything. Hell, I'm not sure anybody does. From what I understand this...disease or whatever gets passed on through bites and then...pretty soon everyone infected ends up like those people outside."

"So yer sayin' this...illness that's going around." Connor said carefully. "Is it...is that what turns people into those _things_ outside?"

Jess nodded her head, dazed. "I think so. It's gotten pretty bad around here. There's been rumours going around abut them putting a quarantine on the whole of Boston, but..."

"Hang on a fuckin' second." Murphy said. "Yer telling me this disease...it's taken over the whole of Boston?"

"Not just Boston." She said grimly. "Some people are saying it's the whole damn country."

"Yer fuckin' kidding me." Connor said. "Are y'trying to tell me it's like this _everywhere_?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I've been barely able to leave my house for days. The last time I checked the news, they were getting reports of this kinda stuff from as far west as Chicago. That was about a week ago. God knows, it might've gotten even worse than that by now."

"Jesus Christ..."

"Mommy!" there was a cry from the living room and moments later Ellie appeared in the doorway, sobbing hysterically. Her mother was at her side in less than an instant.

"What is it? Baby what's wrong?" she asked, frantic.

"I broke the TV." The child howled.

"You did what?"

She pulled at her mother's sleeve, still sniffling. "C-Come see."

Jess followed her daughter into the living room, the twins right behind her. She stopped abruptly in the middle of the room, staring at the television set. In the middle of the screen there was a logo for some local news station, and underneath that the words: _'The following transmission is brought to you via the Emergency Broadcasting System.'_

"Oh Christ," Jess muttered. "This can't be good."

"Mommy?" Ellie questioned. "What do the words say?"

"Stay with her for a second, would you?" she asked Connor, completely dodging her daughter's question. "I'll be right back."

She vanished up the corridor, calling desperately for her Dad. The brothers shared an uneasy glance, a little nervous about being left alone with the small child; who looked just as uncomfortable in their company as they were in hers. She sniffed forlornly and rubbed at her eye, glancing up at the older brother.

"I-I didn't mean to break it." She told him. "I just wanted to watch _Spongebob_."

"S'alright, really." He said. "Yer TV's not really broken, it's just-"

Before he could attempt to explain the situation, there was a flash of colour and in that second the screen suddenly came back to life.

"TV's back on!" Murphy called over his shoulder. Jess and her father quickly reappeared.

"What's going on?" Steve demanded to know. "Have I missed-"

"Sh!" Jess shushed him urgently and reached for the remote to turn up the volume as the newscaster on screen started to talk. Connor noticed that, unlike most reporters this man seemed a bit dishevelled; his dark hair was sticking up at one side as if he'd just rolled out of his bed and his clothes were rumpled. He cleared his throat and adjusted the microphone attached to his shirt, before he began speaking.

"Uhh...ladies and gentlemen..." he began clumsily, "It is with great regret that I must inform you that, as of this morning the city of Boston has been officially declared a disaster zone. Already the districts of Brighton and Fenway have been placed under a complete quarantine, as well as large parts of East and Central Boston. There have been talks of placing a city wide quarantine on Boston to try and contain the virus, which has already claimed countless lives and all over the country the body count continues to rise at an alarming rate because of it." He paused for a moment, and Connor noticed that the hands holding the paper were trembling slightly. "Reports of massive fatalities have been coming in from all major cities along the East Coast, as well as Washington and Los Angeles." He paused again to catch his breath and wipe sweat off his forehead. "More worryingly, some intelligence suggests that this mystery disease has already become a global epidemic; with similar reports of overwhelming casualties in large parts of Europe, Russia and China." He glanced up at something off camera, before he continued on, more hurriedly. "The military issued a statement last night urging any civilians who are still in the Boston area that are uninfected to evacuate the city _immediately_. They have set up a pick up point just outside of Boston, on Highway 95, adjacent to the Norwood Memorial Airport, where-"

The newscaster suddenly stopped talking and froze, lifting his left hand to his earpiece and listening intently. He dropped the hand a few seconds later, his complexion paling considerably.

"I...I have just been informed that as of now, the station has been forced to go off air permanently due to...unforeseen circumstances. There will be no more transmissions following this one..." He stared for a few moments at the camera and took a deep shuddering breath. "God have mercy on-"

Before he could finish the screen abruptly cut to black momentarily and the man's face was replaced by static. For the longest time, nobody dared to speak a word. An uneasy silence descended upon the room, which was suddenly and devastatingly shattered by the sound of a blood curdling scream from downstairs.

* * *

**AN: Ta Da! Chapter Four has finally been completed. About damn time. I would also like to say a quick but very big thanks to the following people: SunnseanicArts, Antagoniser, Belladonna-Isabella, ArmedWithMyComputer, SaraLostInes, The Cocky Undead, YouthINaisa6, reedus fan, Oyaji Murakami, Anarchy in the U.S.A, Rebecca taylor, .7, Zlataslawa and, of course, all you Anonymous people for being the coolest mother fuckers in the world and taking time out of your day to review this piece of shit :P All of the lovely comments really mean a lot to me and it makes my day getting to read them. Also: if I could marry every single one of you wonderful people I totally would. ;)**

**Till next chapter. Peace! **


	5. Evacuation

**WE INTERRUPT YOUR READING TO BRING YOU THIS SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT:**

**BALLS.**

**Before you begin reading, I'd just like to apologise ****profusely**** for the lateness of this chapter. I ****really**** didn't want to get into my old habit of 'only-updating-once-a-month' but it seems like I've fallen back into that pattern. This probably has something to do with the fact I've started school again this month, and don't have as much free time as I used to. Sadly, I can't promise that the next update you get will be anymore frequent. I ****will**** try to work on updating faster, but I'm afraid that since I'm actually in my last year of high school, my schoolwork has never been so important as it is now so, obviously, I have to prioritise. However I can promise that no matter what happens, however long it takes I WILL keep updating this story and as I live and breathe you will keep getting updates.**

**Hope you enjoy the new chapter (the longest one so far) and please don't forget to leave a review. I love to hear from you wonderful people that put up with my shenanigans :)**

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"_Jesus, _what the hell was that?" Steve said, as the screams of agony from the floor below petered out into muffled sobs. Ellie, who had been watching the news broadcast curled up into a little ball on the sofa, let out a sudden wail and clambered down from her seat, hurtling across the room to her mother.

"_Mommy_!" she cried, flinging her arms around her legs. "I'm _scared_!"

Jess reached down and carefully untangled the child's limbs from around her knees, crouching down to her level to gently wipe away her tears.

"I want you to listen to me, sweetheart." She said firmly. "There is absolutely _no reason_ for you to be scared."

"B-But the m-man on the TV said-"

"Never mind what the man on the TV said! You listen to what _I'm _saying. Nothing bad is going to happen to you; not as long as I have a say."

The little girl sniffed forlornly, not seeming entirely convinced by this. Her mother turned her around and propelled her in her father's direction, who was standing at the far side of the room.

"I'm just gonna go downstairs real quick and see what the problem is, then I'll come right back up, ok? You go with your Grandpa; he'll help you pack."

Steve scooped his granddaughter up into his arms, who then buried her head in his shoulder. "What d'you mean pack?" he asked, puzzled.

"As soon as I come back, we're taking our things and we're getting the hell out of here." Jess said determinedly. She turned and headed for the front door, Connor and Murphy right behind her.

"We'll come with you." The older twin said. "Just so yer not on yer own."

She nodded and the trio left the apartment, continuing downstairs as the cries of agony abruptly resumed, more shrill than before. As they reached the bottom landing, it became apparent that they weren't the only ones drawn out by the noise. A small crowd had gathered on the landing below. Among them, Connor recognised the two girls they had seen when they had first entered the building; the blonde and her friend, Steph. Also with them were two boys, around the same age as the girls, that he didn't recognise; both with the same expressions of grim apprehension.

"Kale, what's going on?" Jess asked, startling the small group. The taller of the two boys glanced up, his face paling at the question. He dropped his gaze to the floor, fidgeting from foot to foot; seemingly unsure of how to respond.

"I-It's Beth." He managed eventually, his voice trembling. "She...she's gone into labour."

"You've got to be kidding me!"Jess cried, aghast. "Beth's having the baby _now_?"

"Who's Beth?" Murphy asked.

"She's one of my neighbours." The brunette explained. "With everything that's been going on I completely forgot that she was due this month."

There was a slam as the door at the far end of the hall was suddenly flung open and a bedraggled man appeared; his thin face drained completely of all colour. One hand was clutching the doorframe, the other was around the waist of a short blonde woman standing by his side who was bent over double; clasping her heavy stomach and groaning loudly.

"Hey, can I get some help?" he called frantically. "The contractions are getting worse and I need someone to give me a hand getting her to my car."

"Are you _insane_?" Jess cried, as the two boys ran to help the couple. "You can't go outside! It's not safe out there."

"Yes, I _know _what it's like." The man snapped. "I've been watching the news, just like everybody else. But in case you haven't noticed my wife has gone into _labour_; she _needs_ to get to a hospital."

The brunette scowled, clearly stung by his patronising tone. "Well, if you've been watching the news like you said, you should know that more than half of Boston has been quarantined. How the hell are you going to get Beth to a hospital when most of the roads are closed off?"

"We'll figure something out." He said distractedly, using his one free hand to dig into his pockets and retrieve a set of car keys. He threw them to the red haired boy, the one Jess had referred to as Kale. "Here, could you go and start my car for me? It's just across the street from the front door; the red Toyota."

Kale hesitated, glancing downstairs at the floor below; obviously more than a little reluctant at the thought of having to go outside.

"Don't just stand there!" the man yelled at him, suddenly becoming more desperate as his wife gave another cry of agony. "_Move_! Go! We'll be right behind you."

The boy jumped at his sudden raised voice and turned, hurtling down the stairs to the ground floor and disappearing from sight. The couple followed after him, having to take the stairs a lot slower considering the woman could barely stand upright from the pain of her contractions. Jess clambered downstairs after them, still determined to try and reason with them.

"Mitchell, wait up!" she called as she reached the bottom of the stairs, Connor right behind her. The man slowed to a stop, whirling round and scowling at the two of them.

"What?" he snapped.

She paused, choosing her words very carefully. "Look, just...just think about what you're doing. This virus or whatever it is that's going around is really getting out of control. The streets aren't safe anymore, especially not for someone in Beth's condition and-"

"Don't you think I know that?" Mitchell snapped, suddenly defensive. "Are you trying to suggest I don't care about my own wife?"

"Mitch-" Beth gasped through her pain, "_Please_, just leave it!"

"I'm not _trying _to suggest anything!" Jess said. "I'm telling you this because...because I don't want either of you to go out there and get yourselves hurt. I know it's not ideal, but it'd be better if you just stay and have the baby _here_. I can _help _you, I'm trained as a nurse-"

"She doesn't _need _a Goddamn nurse, she needs a _midwife_!" he yelled. She flinched, taken aback by his sudden outburst. Connor took a step forward, placing himself at Jess's side.

"Y'don't have to talk to her like that." He said sternly. "She's only tryin' t'help you and yer wife."

Mitch turned on him, his glare intensified. "Don't try and tell me what to do." He snarled. "And who are you anyway?" his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You don't live here."

Connor hesitated. He might not have known this man more than a few minutes; but he somehow got the feeling that he was likely to react much in the same way the elderly woman had; negatively. Like with most things, Connor turned out to be right.

"My God," he gasped, his eyes widening in fear as realization dawned on him. "I _know _you! You're one of those psychopath serial killers!"

"Oh, for _Christ's sake_!" he heard Murphy cry out from somewhere behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see his brother standing at the foot of the stairs, scowling at the other man. "The fuck's wrong with you people?" he snapped. "Can't y'see we're the least of your fuckin' problems now?"

Mitchell's panicked gaze darted between the twins as he stumbled backwards, grabbing Beth's arm. "We're getting out of here." He told her hurriedly. "Right now."

"You're making a mistake!" Jess called after him, in a last ditch effort to dissuade him, but her warning fell on deaf ears. He crossed the hall before anyone could stop him; shouldering the front door open, disappearing through it with his arm around his wife's shoulders. The door slammed shut behind them and there followed a moment of uncomfortable silence, broken suddenly by an angry sob from Jess. She turned around, her hand over her mouth and angry tears in her eyes.

Connor turned to her, sympathetic. "Y'alright?" he asked.

She shook her head in belief. "I just...I honestly can't _believe_ him." Jess said. "How could he be so _stupid_? He's seen the news, he _knows _how dangerous it is out there and yet he still..." she trailed off, sighing heavily. "He's going to get them both _killed_."

"You don't know that." The blonde girl called down from where she was standing watching them, perched halfway up the stairs. "I mean...maybe it's really not as bad as it looks outside. Maybe they _will _make it."

"S'unlikely." Connor said quietly. "Mean, me an' Murph we're both pretty able, an' we barely made it here alive. What chance does someone in her condition have?"

The group fell silent again, all eyes suddenly falling on the front door as there came the distinct sound of approaching footsteps. There was a fleeting moment of panic, in which Connor was half-expecting one of those things that had been chasing him and his brother to burst through the door. It was something of a relief when the red headed teen, Kale appeared, looking sickened; carefully shutting the door behind him.

"How bad is it out there?" Jess asked him warily. He glanced up at her, hesitating before he answered; his voice trembling slightly.

"Umm...it's not...I mean, there weren't that many p-people outside...They got to the car and drove away ok, but..." he swallowed, grimacing "I was coming back and I saw...there was a man lying by the side of the road next to this burned out police car and he...There was all this blood and guts everywhere a-and..there was a woman next to him _chewing on his arm_. Like it was a fuckin' happy meal or something." He shuddered. "Feel like I'm gonna throw up just thinking about it..."

He trailed off into silence and in the sudden quiet there was the unmistakeably sound of a child crying from one of the floors above. Jess glanced up, her eyes widening in fear.

"Ellie?" she called anxiously, moving to the foot of the stairs and craning her neck to get a better look. "Ellie, sweetheart? Is that you?"

There was the pitter patter of tiny footsteps somewhere above them and the curly headed girl appeared at the top of the stairs, her cheeks streaked with tears. Before she could make a move to come down the stairs, Jess clambered up to meet her, plucking her up off the floor.

"You're not supposed to be down here, Danielle!" She said to her daughter harshly, motioning for the brothers to follow her before she turned and clambered up the stairs. Connor and Murphy hurried to catch up with her; reaching the third floor landing at around the same time she did. Her father, Steve, was standing in the open doorway of their apartment, holding a wailing toddler in his arms.

"Jesus Christ, Ellie." He said irritably, scowling at the little girl. "You near gave me a heart attack."

Ellie stuck her thumb in her mouth, shrinking away from him, shamefaced.

"What happened?" Jess asked. "You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her."

"The hell d'you take me for? 'Course I was looking after her." He snapped.

"Then how did she get downstairs?"

"Charlie must've known he was missing out on all the action and started howlin' something fierce in his crib." Steve explained. "I turned my back for one second to go check up on him; next thing I know Ellie's ran out the door after you."

The brunette sighed and regarded her daughter. "Now, why would you go and do that, Ellie?" she asked sternly. "I _told you_ to stay with Grandpa."

"B-But I d-didn't want you t'go away. I-I wanted y-you to stay _here_." The little girl stuttered, wiping at her cheeks as more tears fell.

"Well, I'm back now so you can stop your blubbering." Jess told her, before turning to face her father. "Did you get anywhere with the packing yet?" she asked him.

He shrugged sheepishly. "Not really. You weren't exactly specific on _what _I was supposed to pack."

"I thought that would be _obvious_!" The brunette snapped at him, shoving past him and disappearing back inside the apartment, her daughter still in her arms. Steve followed after her, leaving the McManus brothers standing awkwardly in the open doorway. A few minutes later Jess reappeared, dragging a suitcase behind her; a bundle of clothes tucked under one arm. She threw the case down angrily and started throwing things in at random. Ellie hovered anxiously behind her.

"Jess, what the hell am I supposed to do with this?" Steve emerged from the kitchen doorway, waving an empty cardboard box at his daughter. She glanced over her shoulder to scowl at him.

"Jesus, Dad. I've gone over this." She said, exasperatedly; turning back to her suitcase. "You're supposed to use it for food. Just empty the cupboards; anything canned that can last us a while."

Steve scowled. "What's the point in that?"

"The point _is _we haven't been told anything. There's a pick up at the airport, sure; but we don't know when it is or where we're being taken to."

"A refugee camp, most likely. They'll be food there for us, should we need it."

"You don't know that for sure. We should be prepared for the worst."

He rolled his eyes, disappearing back into the kitchen. "You need to stop talking like that. You're scaring Ellie." He called over his shoulder.

Jess scoffed, muttering angrily under her breath as she turned her attention back to the suitcase, cramming more clothes into it with alarming ferocity. Ellie hung back, watching her mother warily.

"M-Mommy?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What're you doing?"

"I'm packing." The brunette replied briskly.

"But why? Are you going away?"

Jess faltered, but only for a second. "We're _all _going away." She said carefully. "Me, you Charlie and Grandpa; we're...going on vacation for a little while."

"Oh. Where are we going?"

"I'm not sure yet..."

Ellie looked thoughtful, considering this new information. She glanced up abruptly, her blue eyes resting on Connor and Murphy.

"Are they coming too?" she asked with a frown.

The brunette stopped her frantic packing to glance over her shoulder at the brothers, an unreadable expression flitting across her face for a brief second as her gaze fell on the blood stains that still covered his legs.

"_Shit_." She said, clambering to her feet. "Sorry, I was meant to get you both a change of clothes. Hold on, one second."

"Y'don't have to do that." Connor tried to deter her, but she had already spun on her heel and disappeared through the open doorway at the end of the hall before he could get halfway through his sentence. She reappeared only moments later, holding a small bundle of clothes which she tossed to Murphy.

"Bathroom's in here," she told them, pointing to a door further down the corridor before turning her attention to Ellie, who appeared to still be in her pyjamas. "You'd better get changed into something decent too. Can't have you going out like that, can we?" she patted her daughter on the shoulder, prodding her in the direction of her bedroom further down the hall. The twins gathered their things and headed for the bathroom, changing together to save time. It was something of a relief to finally be wearing something that wasn't uncomfortably damp and covered in blood; but they weren't able to enjoy it much, considering the circumstances. Even worse, the older twin had a hunch that the clothes he and his brother had been given may have previously belonged to Jess's husband. But the two agreed it would probably be in everyone's best interests if they didn't mention anything. After all, considering the woman's hospitality, they hardly had any right to complain about it.

Once decent, they left the bathroom, turning the corner into the cramped living room to find Ellie, now fully clothed and bundled up in a padded pink coat, sitting rigid on the sofa; arms wrapped around her legs, knees tucked under her chin. She stared up at them as they entered the room, almost suspiciously. Connor was just about to ask her about the whereabouts of her mother when the woman herself suddenly reappeared; trying in vain to calm the wailing toddler in her arms.

"You ready to leave?" she asked, having to raise her voice over her son's cries.

"We're going _now_?" Ellie asked nervously, clambering down off her seat.

"Yeah, in a minute, honey." Jess replied, patting the baby's back in an attempt to calm him. To the brothers she said: "You two should go on ahead. We'll be down in a second, just as soon as Charlie's calmed down a bit." She gestured towards the baby in her arms, who was still screeching away, despite his mother's efforts to soothe him. "My Dad's already downstairs anyway." She frowned. "Think he said something about wanting to have a word with you both."

The twins shared a look of apprehension.

"About wha'?" Murphy said defensively.

She shrugged, unhelpfully. "Not sure. Shouldn't be anything too horrible, I'd imagine." She added, as she turned on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen closely followed by Ellie. Connor and Murphy headed for the front door, almost tripping up over the suitcase strategically placed in the middle of the hall. Clambering downstairs to the ground floor, they spotted Steve, sitting on one of the chairs that had previously been used to barricade the fire exit. Connor found himself hesitating when he spotted the shotgun in his hands. The older man got up from his seat, grinning; obviously amused by the expression of concern on the twins faces.

"I wouldn't look so worried." He said lightly. "I ain't planning on using this on either of you." His tone abruptly darkened. "Not unless you give me a reason to."

Murphy frowned, clearly not impressed by this. "Y'got nothing t'worry about." Connor reassured him, speaking up before the younger twin could. Steve nodded, satisfied, and reached into his pocket, digging out a set of car keys.

"You know your way around Boston?" he continued.

Connor shrugged. "Not so much around this part. We had a place up in Fenway but we never really came this far South tha' much."

"Right...You know how to get to Norwood?"

"Huh?"

He scowled, loosing patience. "The _airport_? Where this supposed military pick up's happening?"

"Oh, righ'" Connor said uncertainly. "Aye...S'pose so."

Murphy rolled his eyes. "Don't fuckin' lie. Y'got no idea where yer going."

"If that's the case," Steve spoke up, before Connor could retaliate. "Then I guess you'd be better letting me go first. We've got two cars; I can take Jess and the kids in the Volvo. Here-" He tossed the set of keys in his hand to Murphy, who only just managed to catch them. "-You can take the Chevrolet. But I swear to God, if you get one single scratch on that thing I will hunt you down and murder you, y'understand?"

The younger twin grinned, undeterred by the threat. "Y'got a Chevy?"

"Damn right. Built that thing almost from scratch; s'one of my prized possessions-"

"How far away's the airport?" Connor interrupted.

"Not far. Should only take about twenty minutes." The older man replied, running a hand through his greying hair. "Though I guess that depends on how bad the traffic is. There's a good chance the streets might be gridlocked..."

He trailed off into silence, which was abruptly broken by a call from upstairs.

"_Dad_?" Jess yelled. "Y'think you could give me a hand here?"

Steve shoved his shotgun into the hands of the older brother and hurried upstairs; returning moments later weighed down by a bulky case. He reached the ground floor and threw it on the floor with a loud thud.

"Careful!" Jess scowled, indignant. She held a now docile Charlie on her hip, who watched the brothers with wide brown eyes, his thumb stuck in his mouth. Ellie clutched her mother's other hand, her gaze glued to the floor as she hopped nervously from foot to foot. There was a sudden bang from the floor immediately above as a door was thrown open and seconds later, the blonde girl from earlier appeared at the top of the staircase, flanked by the red haired boy; Kale. Her gaze darted from person to person, taking in each member of the small group.

"Hey, what're you guys doing?" she eyed the suitcase at Murphy's feet, worriedly. "You're not leaving too, are you?"

"'Course we are. Haven't you seen the news? They're telling us we _need_ to evacuate; we don't have much of a choice here." Jess said.

"Yeah I know; we saw it." Kale muttered bitterly. "But it's not like we _can_ just leave."

"Why not?" the brunette asked. "I mean, if transport's a problem for you, we have to cars; if you need to, we can-"

"No, no. It's not that." The blonde interrupted, glancing over her shoulder hesitantly and lowering her voice. "I-It's Steph. She doesn't...she refuses to leave until she gets some form of contact from her sister..."

Kale scoffed. "Like that's gonna happen."

The girl scowled at him. "_Kale_!"

"What?" he snapped back. "You know it as well as I do Alicia! Whether Steph wants to believe it or not, her sister's probably dead-"

"Keep your voice _down_. She might hear you!"

"Whatever."

She turned back to Jess, sighing heavily. "It's not that we don't _want _to leave. It's just...we can't exactly leave Steph on her own...As much as I want to get out of here, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if Steph was left behind. I don't think any of us would." She shot a meaningful look at Kale, who avoided her gaze guiltily.

"Well, it's not like you're on your own." Jess said. "She might be a pain but if you had any trouble, I'm sure Grace would be willing to help you out."

Alicia bit her lip. "She can't help us. She's already left."

Jess blinked in surprise. "She has? When did this happen?"

"Not long after Mitch and Beth went. She heard they'd gone to hospital and her and Dennis decided to follow them. She also said something about trying to contact the police there because...well, y'know..." she trailed off uncomfortably; her gaze momentarily darting to Connor and Murphy before dropping to her feet. The younger twin snorted reproachfully, but didn't say anything.

"Well, I suppose if you want maybe...we could wait with you for an hour or two?" Jess suggested tentatively. "I mean, if you're really not comfortable staying here by yourself, then-"

"Might not be that great an idea to wait around any longer than we have to." Steve interjected, sending an apologetic look in the teenagers direction. "No offence meant; it's just we've got children with us and if it's no longer safe here-"

"_Dad_!"

"No, really it's fine." The blonde girl took a deep breath, to steady herself. "We'll be alright. We've got each other and, well, who knows? Maybe Steph'll come around and we'll see you up at Norwood."

"You sure?"

She nodded confidently, though she seemed seconds away from bursting into tears. Steve sighed lightly and moved past his daughter, heading for the front door. Jess stared after him, an unreadable expression on her face before she shook her head ruefully and bent down to pick up the suitcase on the ground, letting go of Ellie's hand to do so. The girl tottered after her mother, looking slightly uncomfortable that she didn't have the comfort of her hand to hold. Connor and Murphy followed after her; each trying to ignore the building sense of dread at the thought of having to face the horrors outside. Steve reached the front entrance of the building, hesitating before tugging the door open a crack, peering out into the street beyond.

"Is there anyone out there?" Jess asked, her voice hushed.

Steve shook his head. "I don't see no one. Still, no one try anything stupid. Everyone stay low, stay _quiet _and try not to draw any attention."

He eased the door open slightly further and slipped outside, clutching his shotgun close to his chest. Jess hesitated, glancing back at Connor.

"You go first." He said. "Me an' Murph; we'll watch yer back."

She smiled half heartedly. "Right..." Her gaze fell on Ellie who was staring up at her intently. "I want you to stay right behind me, okay Ellie?" she told her sternly. The child nodded vigorously. "I mean it. No wandering of. You _have _to stay right behind me."

The brunette disappeared through the open door, hauling the suitcase after her. With one last shared look of dread, the brothers followed her. They found themselves in a small front garden, consisting of a small patch of yellowing grass bordered by a low brick wall. Surprisingly, the street beyond was relatively calm. There were no screaming sirens, no explosive gunfire; there was hardly any noise at all. Somehow, that almost made it seem worse.

Connor craned his neck, trying to see over the row of parked cars by the side of the road. For the most part, the street seemed to be deserted; though he did notice what appeared to be a body lying between the gap of two vehicles on the other side of the road. He jumped when Steve suddenly nudged him with the butt of his gun to get his attention.

"You see that?" he pointed to the left; directing the older twin's attention to a dark blue car, not far from where the dead body was. "That there's my Chevy. Jess's car's parked closer to the traffic lights up there." He gestured to another vehicle further up the street. "You can follow us along to Norwood, since you apparently don't know where you're going. Sound good?"

"Aye, sure."

Steve nodded and lead the way for the others up the street towards their car, while the brothers crossed over to the other side of the road; continuing to keep a watchful eye on the surrounding area. Connor collected the keys from Murphy and scrambled over the hood to get to the driver's door. Despite the fact there didn't seem to be any immediate threat, he couldn't seem to shake the feeling of unease hanging over him.

"_Ellie_!"

The sudden scream shattered the silence. Murphy whirled round; his gaze falling almost instantaneously on the figure of the little blonde girl who was standing not ten feet from him. She stood, frozen in terror; staring down at the corpse of a man lying by the side of the road. He appeared to have been run over by someone's car, judging form the way both his legs had been crushed into a bloody, disgusting mess of twisted flesh. Blood splattered the pavement underneath the body and the younger McManus found himself fighting back the urge to throw up. All of a sudden, the dead body let out a low groan and blinked its vacant, discoloured eyes. It was at that moment that Murphy realized with horror that what he was looking at wasn't actually dead at all.

The man raised his head slightly, eyes fixing on the little girl as he let out a animalistic snarl, using his arms to haul himself over the concrete; stretching out a gnarled hand towards Ellie, who stood completely frozen in fear; unable to move.

"_Ellie run_!" The sound of her mother's frightened voice seemed to jerk the child out of her daze. She turned to run but the moment she did so the man lunged forward another few centimetres, just far enough that he was able reach out and to fasten his bony fingers around her ankle. The girl stumbled and fell hard on her back, letting out a cry of terror. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw Steve throwing open his car door and retrieving the shotgun from the back seat; loading it up and turning to run.

But Murphy was much faster than he was.

He leapt forward in one swift motion and, grabbing the girl under the arms, hauled her away from the man's clutching fingers. The corpse growled at him, snapping its rotten, yellowing teeth. Murphy scowled down at the hellish creature at his feet, as he twisted round and stomped down hard on its nose. There was a satisfying crunch and blood spurted from under his shoe. Ellie gave a horrified little sob, turning her head away.

There was a sudden blast of gunfire from behind him and Murphy glanced over his shoulder to see Steve with his shotgun held aloft; the barrel pointing across the street to where a cluster of around five or six people, who had seemingly appeared from nowhere, shambling across the road towards them. Their dishevelled clothes and blooded faces made them look disturbingly like walking corpses and Murphy had no doubt in his mind that they were the same bloodthirsty monsters that had tried to kill them before. Steve reloaded his gun and fired off another round and a woman at the front of the group stumbled and fell as the bullet slammed into her skull. Behind Steve, Jess stood backed up against the car with her baby clutched in her arms, watching in horror.

Abruptly her gaze shifted and for a moment her brown eyes locked with Murphy's. She looked like she wanted nothing more than to run over and snatch her little girl from him, but the cars were parked too far apart and Murphy doubted he would be able to get to her without one of those _things _getting them first. There was another bang as Steve fired off another round from his gun, shaking the younger brother out of his thoughts. He turned towards the car, his gaze falling on his daughter.

"Jess, the fuck're you standin' around for? Get in the Goddamn car, _now_!" he yelled, pushing her towards the open door. She struggled against him, still frantic to reach her little girl.

"No, we _can't_! Ellie-" she started to say, but Murphy called across the space to her, cutting her off.

"S'alright!" he shouted. "You go in t'other car. We'll take t'girl with us."

Jess still seemed more than a little reluctant at the thought of leaving her child but since there wasn't another option she clambered into the other vehicle, slamming the door shut behind her. Steve waited until he'd taken down a few more of the crowd advancing on them, before he ran for the car. Connor yelled at his brother as he spotted one of the group; a man who looked like he'd gotten in a fight with the sidewalk and lost, stumbling in their direction, hands outstretched as he snarled hungrily. Murphy bolted for the door and leapt in to the back seat, hauling a screaming Ellie after him. Connor scrambled into the drivers side, fumbling with the keys and jamming them into the ignition. He watched as the little black car ahead of them pulled away from the side of the road and went hurtling round the corner out of sight; before he turned on the engine and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The vehicle jerk forward; barrelling past the assorted walking corpse stumbling towards them. Connor wrenched the wheel to the left; turning the corner so sharply that both Murphy and Ellie were flung across the back seat.

"For fuck's sake, Connor!" Murphy yelled furiously, struggling to pull himself upright. "Y'trying' to fuckin' kill us?"

"Put yer fuckin' seatbelt on then!" The older twin snapped back, keeping his attention focused solely on the car ahead of him. Behind him, Ellie was still wailing ear piercingly loud; her tiny hands clenched into fists as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Murphy winced at the noise, racking his brain for something to say that would calm her down.

"Hey..._hey_. What're y'crying for?" he asked her. "Yer okay."

The girl continued to sob hysterically. "I-I'm _not _okay!" she howled. "I-I-I want m-my _Mommy_!"

"Yer gonna get t'see her again." He reassured her. "S'only 'bout twenty minutes till we get to the airport. She'll be there waiting for you."

"B-But that's a really _long _time!"

"No, it's not. S'hardly any time at all."

"A-Are you sure?"

"Aye. Yer gonna be there before y'know it."

Her frantic sobs slowly dissolved into hiccups as she gradually calmed down and she rubbed away the remainder of her tears. "But w-why're we going there? T'the airport?" she asked, her voice relatively steadier.

"'Cause..." Murphy hesitated. "Y'remember yer Ma talking 'bout us...going away. Well, s'pose we're taking a plane somewhere; gettin' out of Boston."

"B-But I like it here. D-Do we _have_ t-to leave?"

"Aye. S'not safe here anymore."

"Oh." Ellie said shortly. Then, after a brief pause. "Do _you _know where we're going?"

He shrugged. "Not really. Is there someplace y'really wanna go to?"

"Um..." she hiccupped, thinking over the question. "I-I kinda wanna see Disneyland." She said eventually. "Do you think...maybe that's where we're going?"

Murphy almost laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of the situation. The world as he knew it seemed to be falling apart before his eyes; and here he was discussing a trip to Disneyland with a six year old.

"S'pose y'never know. Maybe that _is _where we're going." He replied, though he knew the chances of that actually happening were pretty much slim. But of course, Ellie was too young to understand that. She swivelled round to stare at, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"D'you really think so?" she asked.

He grinned back at her. "Aye, why not?"

From the front seat, Connor suddenly swore and slammed his foot down on the brake, causing the car to shudder to a stop. Murphy was flung into the seat in front of him, and if he hadn't been holding on to her arm, Ellie probably would've been catapulted through the windshield.

"_Jesus Christ_, Connor!" he bellowed. "The fuck're you playin' at?"

"Fuckin' hell...would y'look at tha'?" the older twin said.

"Wha'?" Murphy hauled himself upright, peering past his brother to see what he was looking at. A large chain link fence stretched from one end of the street to the other, completely blocking off the road ahead of them. There was barbed wire attached to the top of the barrier as well as various brightly coloured warning signs screamed '_Warning: Biohazard!_' and '_Keep Out!_' Beyond the fence, he thought he could see a few lone figures stumbling around the empty roads mindlessly and he instantly felt a familiar cold dread settling over him. The black car ahead of him jerked clumsily into reverse, as Steve tried to turn the vehicle around.

"We have t'get the fuck outta here." Murphy said quietly. "_Now_, Connor."

"We have t'let him go first. We need t'follow him, remember?"

The younger twin scowled and fell back into his seat. "Right..."

An uneasy silence descended upon the inhabitants of the car; who were too busy studying the road ahead of them to notice the man rapidly approaching the vehicle from the sidewalk. Ellie shrieked in fright when someone hammered a fist against her window and Murphy himself very nearly jumped out of his skin. The girl scooted across the leather seats, shrinking back from the window as a man's face appeared; peering at them all through the glass. At first Murphy was almost sure he would be another of those walking corpses, but upon closer inspection he could see that the man's eyes were a vibrant green, unlike the discoloured yellow eyes of those things; and he seemed far too alert to be comparable to them.

"Hey there," he said, his tone vaguely friendly. "D'you think you folks could maybe give me a lift up to Norwood airport? I ain't got a car m'self and well...there's no taxi's available right now, y'know?" He laughed, though it sounded incredibly strained.

Connor exchanged a worried look with his younger brother, before turning and taking in the man's appearance. His dark hair was crammed under a woollen hat and the green waterproofed jacket he was wearing had a large dark red stain on the arm which looked suspiciously like blood. Even more worryingly, as the older twin's gaze dropped further down, he spotted a bloody hammer clutched in the stranger's left hand that sent warning bells ringing in his head. Taking a deep breath and gave the man outside the most sincere smile he could muster.

"Sorry, man." He said. "We can't help y'there. We're not headed t'Norwood."

"Are you serious? Haven't you seen the news? The military's ordered an evacuation; _everyone's_ supposed to be going to the airport right now." When Connor failed to reply, he continued on relentlessly. "I mean, if you want; if the problem's that y'don't know where you're going I could help point you in the right direction. If you let me in, I know a couple shortcuts I could get you there in half the time-"

"No thanks." Connor replied tersely. "We don't need yer help."

There was a pause as he processed this and his expression darkened suddenly with anger; his voice growing cold. "C'mon man. Just let me in the fuckin' car already."

Connor glared back at him, refusing to be intimidated. "M'sorry." He said. "But that's not fuckin' happening."

A moment of utter stillness past while the two men stared each other down. Then abruptly the stranger made a grab for the door handle. Ellie gave a cry of alarm as he hauled the door open, but before he could properly get inside, Murphy had leapt forward and slammed the door shut again.

"Hit t'fuckin' locks, Connor!" he called over his shoulder. There was a click as the child locks were activated and the man yelled in frustration as he tugged at the door, unable to open it. He slammed his open palm against the window.

"_Open the fuckin' door_!" he roared. "Open it! I _swear _to _God _I'll fuckin' kill you if you don't open the _fuckin' door_!"

"_Fuck off_!" Murphy yelled back, putting an arm round Ellie who whimpered, clamping her hands over her ears as more tears rolled down her cheeks. He picked her up then, transferring her over to his other side so that he was sitting between her and the man outside. Connor yelled out as the man raised the hammer in his hand, bringing it down hard on the window. There was a loud snap as the metal made contact and a spider web of cracks appeared in the centre of the glass panel. Ellie screamed, screwing her eyes shut as he raised the hammer again. But before he could get another blow in, there was a roar of an engine as the black Volvo barrelled past them and the older twin grabbed the gear shift, put the car into reverse and slammed his foot down on the pedal. The car shot backwards and the man missed the window, instead hitting the hood of the car; leaving a sizeable dent. Connor drove the car in reverse another few meters, putting enough distance between them and the stranger that he was able to turn them around and pursue the other vehicle.

As they continued on through the city, a heavy silence descended upon the car, punctuated only by Ellie's forlorn sobs. Though at first Murphy tried to make conversation with her, she stayed stubbornly quiet, and he soon gave up. After around another fifteen minutes of driving they reached Highway 93 just as a helicopter roared past overhead, startling them out of their silence.

"D'you think that was t'one meant t'be picking us up?" Murphy asked worriedly, craning his neck to get a better look as the aircraft flew off in the opposite direction.

"Hope not," Connor replied. "Would think they'd have more than the one though, righ'?"

"S'pose."

The older twin took the next exit that brought then on to Highway 95 and the atmosphere in the car lifted slightly as they got closer to reaching their goal. But they couldn't have been driving for more than a few minutes when Connor noticed the black Volvo in front of them slowing down.

"Oh, Christ." He said. "We don't hit any fuckin' traffic when we're in Boston, then just as we get out here _this _happens."

Ahead of their car, the whole of Highway 95 was grid-locked as far as the eye could see. And judging from the fact that people were able to get out and wander around outside of their vehicles, Connor guess that the queue hadn't moved in some time. He sighed and turned off the engine, pulling the keys out of the ignition.

"I don't think we're gonna be going anywhere for a while." He told his brother and Murphy groaned. In front of them, the Volvo had also ground to a halt and the passenger door opened as Jess scrambled out, still carrying baby Charlie.

"C'mon kiddo." Murphy said to Ellie. "Think yer Ma wants t'see you."

The blonde girl perked up considerably, opening her door and leaping out of the car, eager to reach her mother. Jess gave a sob of relief and scooped her daughter up into her arms, much to the chagrin of her baby brother, who shrieked irritably.

"C'mon," Connor said, patting his brother on the shoulder. "Might as well go stretch our legs."

"Aye."

He shoved open the door and clambered out of the car; thankful to get some fresh air. He took in his surroundings; watching the various people wandering back and forth from car to car; some making small talk with other survivors, some others demanding loudly to know just what the hell was going on. There was a palpable tension in the air, and he had the feeling it had something to do with the fact they were sitting out in the open here. While there didn't appear to be any of those monsters anywhere nearby, he knew they could appear at any second and the panic that would cause would be unimaginable.

"I just...I can't thank you enough." The sound of Jess's voice brought him abruptly out of his thoughts and he turned to see her speaking with Murphy.

"S'alright. I did wha' anyone would've done." He said, shrugging carelessly.

The brunette smiled through her tears. "I just can't stop thinking about what would've happened if you hadn't stepped in. If you hadn't been there she-"

"Yer not gonna help yourself thinkin' like that."

She nodded. "Yeah...you're right. What matters is she's ok." She planted a kiss on her daughter's forehead who had been studying Murphy thoughtfully with her big blue eyes.

"Mommy? Are we going to Disneyland?" she asked abruptly. Jess blinked, taken aback.

"Come again? Where the hell did you get that idea?"

Murphy avoided her gaze guiltily. There was the sound of a door slamming as Steve locked up the Volvo and approached the group; letting out a low whistle as he laid eyes on his Chevrolet; his gaze straying to the large dent on the hood and the shattered window in the back.

"The hell happened to my car?" he asked irritably.

"Oh, aye...meant to tell you 'bout that." Connor began a little hesitantly, after an awkward pause. "Some crazy fucker came up to us and tried to force us to give him t'car. And then when we wouldn't he...did that."

"T'weren't nothin' to do with us though." The younger twin added.

Steve looked like he was regretting leaving his shotgun in the car and for the briefest second Murphy wondered if he was actually going to carry out his earlier threat. But instead he turned to his granddaughter, curiously.

"Is that what happened, Ellie?" he asked her. The blonde nodded cautiously.

"He was a really scary man." She said softly. "I didn't like him. He said a lot of _swears_."

"Huh. Well then, t'hell with the car." Steve said, turning to smirk at the brothers. "You got Ellie here in one piece at least, so I think that more than makes up for it." He reached over and ruffled her blonde curls. Murphy let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding and grinned at Connor as the tense moment passed.

"So..." Jess began, a little uneasily. "What do we do now?"

"Now? We wait." Steve said grimly.

* * *

Murphy sat in the drivers seat of Steve's Chevrolet, staring up at the ceiling, unseeing. Behind him, Ellie lay fast asleep, sprawled across the back seat, twitching every now and then in her slumber. Outside, Jess and Connor sat on the hood of the car, talking quietly in hushed tones. Steve had gone for a walk with his shotgun, intent on finding out some new information about what was going on. Earlier on, he probably would've cause a bit of a fuss storming about with his gun in plain view like. But now? Now, it was kind of a necessity.

When they'd first arrived on Highway 95, while the atmosphere had seemed a little strained, there had also been a somewhat light-hearted mood. None of the walking corpses that had plagued Boston had made it as far out as the airport, so there was no cause for concern there. People were wandering around the stationary vehicles, making small talk with one another; swapping horror stories of the carnage in the city and sharing theories on what mystery disease or virus was causing such widespread chaos.

But as the day slowly dragged on fear started to dig its claws into these people. Panic started to set in as they came to the realization that _no one _was coming to rescue them. The military, their _government _had failed them. This made them angry. This made them _dangerous. _Arguments started. Fights broke out. People started getting _hurt. _Once or twice Murphy had nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of gunfire from somewhere further down the line, which had people running and ducking for cover back to their cars. Pretty soon the queue had started moving forward as people gradually moved away from the airport. Some continued along Highway 95 heading out of the city; others turned back and made their way back into Boston, which, to Murphy, seemed like the worst idea possible.

If it was up to him, he'd rather they moved on from the city; maybe go out somewhere quiet where there were less people. He considered pitching this idea to his brother, but he wasn't sure he wanted to interrupt his discussion with the brunette. Suddenly Steve reappeared from around the side of the Volvo, looking more than a little displeased. Connor noticed him first and nudged Jess to get her attention. She stood up as her father approached them, running a hand through her hair.

"Well?" Murphy heard her say. "Did you get anything?"

Steve shook his head. "It's not good." He said.

Jess exchanged a worried glance with Connor. "What d'you mean 'it's not good.'?"

He remained silent.

"_Dad_! What happened? What did you see?"

"I got close enough to the airport t'see the landing strip." He replied. "That place is dead. There's no _military _there. There's no one, period. Place is fuckin' deserted. Trust me; no one's gonna come for us."

"_Shit_..." said Connor. "Then what t'fuck do we do now?"

Steve shrugged. "Whatever we do, we can't stay here. It's not safe. Especially now it's starting to get dark. We need to go further out, get away from the city."

Jess bit her lip. "Are y'sure that's a good idea? I mean...maybe we should wait another hour, just in case-"

"_No_, Jess. We've been waiting almost twelve hours and nothing's happened; we're not waiting any longer."

Murphy sighed inwardly, throwing his back against the headrest in frustration. This was just what he needed to hear. They'd been waiting around the entire day and it had all been for nothing. He let his gaze wander on the dashboard and found himself staring at the old car radio. He'd managed to kill a few hours messing around with it earlier on in the day, but there hadn't been much to listen to, since most of the stations hadn't been broadcasting; for obvious reason. He reached forward and flicked the on switch, jumping slightly at the burst of static. He fiddled with the tuner, half-heartedly cruising through the different stations, jumping when he heard the unmistakeable sound of a human voice.

'_...ergency broadca-'_

His hand slipped on the button and the voice was lost among the white noise. He swore to himself, reaching again for the radio in a desperate bid to find the station again. He heard Ellie stirring on the back seat and a second later she appeared beside him, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"What're y'doing?" she mumbled.

"Shh!" he told her. "M'tryna get the radio t'work an' I need t'listen carefully."

She fell silent and after a few moments the voice returned, slightly stronger this time.

'_...northern state cities in their current level of disaster are as follows; New York: Stage 9 catastrophe; Philadelphia: Stage 9 catastrophe; Chicago: Stage 8 catastrophe-'_

"Connor!" he called excitedly. "I got t'radio to work!"

He leaned over and opened the drivers door so the others outside could hear better and turned up the volume as the broadcast continued.

'_...Minneapolis: Stage 6 catastrophe; Cleveland: Stage 7 catastrophe; Boston: Stage 8 catastrophe-'_

Jess gasped at that, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Mommy?" Ellie asked. "What does that mean?"

Her question went unanswered.

'_Whilst the majority of all Northern states are in high levels of disaster, the South remains largely unaffected at this time. The city of Atlanta has officially been declared a 'safe zone.' Military personnel have set up a protected area in the city centre for refugees from across the country. If there are any survivors remaining from the northern states they are urged to-'_

Abruptly the voice was cut off by static. Murphy stared for a moment, disbelieving, before he reached for the tuner; trying to get the station back, to no avail.

"_Fuck_." He muttered under his breath. "S'fuckin' gone."

"Doesn't matter." Connor said. "We already what we need to, righ'?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Weren't y'listenin'? Atlanta's safe! We don't need to worry 'bout waiting for the military t'come pick us up; we can go to them."

"Son," said Steve. "D'you even know where Atlanta _is_?"

Connor hesitated. "Well...no. S'not that far, is it?"

The older man scoffed. "You really don't know your way around do you?" he said. "It's only about a thousand miles south from here."

"_Christ_..." exclaimed Murphy.

"Yeah. Not sure you'd be able to swing that. Although," he paused for thought. "The Chevy's got a couple jerry cans in the trunk, that might just be enough to get you down there. But there's no way in hell I'm going that way."

"Why not?" Connor asked. "The just said it's a safe zone; the military's protecting it-"

"Yeah, well. They were supposed to have picked us up here, but they never did, did they?" Steve interjected. "How d'you know for sure that Atlanta's not gonna be just another dead end?"

The older twin shrugged. "Guess we don't. But it's worth a shot, isn't it?"

"Not for me it's not. It's too far, and too big a risk."

"But then if we're not going to Atlanta, then where _are _we going?" Jess said, folding her arms. "'Cause I'm not planning on staying out here any longer than I have to."

Steve hesitated before he spoke. "You remember my brother, right? George? He has that farm up in New Brunswick?"

Jess raised an eyebrow. "_New Brunswick_?" she sighed theatrically. "Dad-"

"Listen, ok? I know what I'm talking about. Its a long trip, sure, but it's a hell of a lot shorter than going all the way to Atlanta where we have _no family _at all. Wouldn't you rather stay with George than be stuck in some refugee camp?"

She sighed. "I'd rather my children had somewhere safe to stay." She said eventually.

"Well, they'll be safe in Brunswick. A hell of a lot safer than in Atlanta; I know it."

"Alright, _fine_. We'll have it your way." She snapped. "But so help me God, if you're wrong about this-"

"I'm not."

She scowled at him and turned on her heel, heading for the little black car, muttering something under her breath. As soon as she was out of earshot, Steve turned to the brothers. "I know you don't know him," he began. "But my brother's pretty hospitable and considering the circumstances with the world gone to shit and everything, I'm sure he'd be happy for you to-"

"Listen, I know what yer gettin' at," Connor said. "But really, s'alright. Me and Murph, we...I think we're gonna try for Atlanta."

Steve eyed them both warily. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Aye. I've got a feeling it's the righ' thing t'do."

He sighed heavily. "If you think so, then I'm not gonna push you." He glanced at the blue Chevy, where his granddaughter sat watching them from the back seat with wide eyes. "Think if that's the case then you'd better take my car. Like I said, it should have just enough gas t'get you all the way to Atlanta. Plus there's a map in the glove box t'help you find your way, should you get lost."

"Y'sure about this?" Murphy asked. "Thought y'loved yer car?"

"Yeah, but...there's more important things to worry about right now, don't you think?"

"Aye, s'pose."

There was the sound of a door slamming shut and Jess abruptly reappeared, pushing past her father and pulling open the back door to the Chevy.

"C'mon darling." She said to Ellie, as she scooped her up of the seat. "You're gonna have to sleep in the other car with Charlie, m'afraid."

Ellie mumbled something incoherent, rubbing at her eyes. Jess turned to the brothers, barely able to stifle a yawn. "S'pose you're gonna follow behind us like you did before then?" she asked.

Connor grimaced. "No. We're not comin' with you." He explained. "We're goin' for Atlanta."

"Oh..." she said quietly. "Are you sure? 'Cause really, it's not a problem for you to-"

"They've made their decision. They want to go to Georgia, then we shouldn't try to stop them." Steve said sternly.

"Ok. Right. Fine." She offered them both a faint smile. "Well...I just wanted to say thanks to you both. Again. For everything. And...who knows, maybe once this has all blown over...maybe we'll see each other again."

"Aye, if they don't chuck us back in prison first." Murphy remarked. She laughed a little at that.

"Guess this is goodbye then." She said and then surprised them by giving them both a quick hug; her hand lingering a second or two longer on Connor's shoulder before she finally turned and made her way back to the car, carrying her little girl on her hip. Connor watched her go, while Steve handed the car keys back to Murphy.

"You guys take care of yourselves, alright?" he said. "And for God's sake don't fuck up my car anymore than you already have."

Murphy laughed. "Aye. We promise we'll take good care of it."

Steve nodded then turned and followed his daughter back to their car. A few moments later, the engine roared to life and after a moment he managed to get the vehicle turned around, driving past them and quickly disappearing into the night. The twins watched for a few more minutes, until the car was no more than a speck on the horizon before they clambered back into the old Chevy and started up the engine; driving off after the little black car and leaving the darkness of Boston behind them.


	6. Connection

It had been around five hours since they'd left Boston and at least over two hours since they'd seen another car. But then again, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. After everything that had happened in Boston, it seemed like the best plan of action was to stay as far away from civilization as possible. Once they'd turned off of Highway 95, they'd made sure to stick to the quieter, lesser used roads to avoid running into any more potential psychopaths.

They'd thought it best if they each took a turn driving the car, so they could keep moving constantly. The sooner they got to Atlanta, the better. Connor had agreed to drive for the first couple of hours or so; a decision he was starting to severely regret now. The days events were quickly starting to catch up on him and the fact that he had barely had any sleep over the past twenty four hours wasn't helping either. At times he was finding it difficult to even keep his eyes open.

In the passenger seat beside him, Murphy sat with his head facing towards the window. Whether he was asleep or not, Connor couldn't tell. He turned his attention back to the road ahead of him, trying to stay focused. More then once he found his eyelids drooping, and at one point his hand slipped on the wheel; causing the car to jerk violently to the left. They would have skidded right off the road and crashed into the ditch beyond, if Connor hadn't managed to gain control again.

"The fuck're y'playin' at, Connor?" Murphy snapped, his voice groggy from sleep. He seemed more than a little irritated; most likely because of his rude awakening when his head had been slammed into the window after the unexpected turn.

"Huh?"

"For Christ's sake, stop the fuckin' car. Yer gonna kill us!"

"No m'not. M'fine." Connor mumbled.

"Yer not _fine_; y'almost fell asleep at t'fuckin' wheel. Pull over; I'll drive for a bit."

"Y'don't have to. I said m'fine."

"An' I said, stop the fuckin' car!" Murphy said fiercely.

Not in the mood to argue, Connor quickly complied. After the younger twin had grudgingly gotten into the drivers seat and they had started moving again, he soon found his head nodding and within around ten minutes he had dropped off completely.

He was woken up again, he didn't know how many hours later, feeling completely disorientated. He blinked and turned his head away from the blinding light of the sun, struggling to remember where he was. After a few minutes, the memory of the horrors that had taken place the following night came back to him, and with them, a cold feeling of dread. His gaze abruptly fell on the small clock to his left, that was set into the dashboard of the car. If the thing was set right, it had just gone past eight in the morning. Almost twelve hours had past since they'd left Boston.

His head reeling from this realization, he turned his attention to the road ahead, which was partly obscured by what looked like a thick fog. It took him a moment to grasp that the car wasn't actually moving and he turned to his brother, to demand what was going on.

Only to find that the seat next to him was empty.

At first, he could only stare at the vacant space where Murphy was supposed to be, unable to process the fact that his brother was gone. All of a sudden a thousand gruesome scenarios of what could have happened to his twin ran through his mind and he was gripped with an uncontrollable panic that had him scrambling to get out of the car. He practically fell out of the vehicle on to the road, scraping his knees on the concrete as he clambered upright and drew in a breath, almost choking on the foul smell hanging in the air. It was then that he abruptly realized that the haze hanging over the road wasn't actually fog.

It was _smoke. _

He was hit with the overpowering stench of burning metal and starting coughing violently as the sour air burned his throat.

"Murph!" he yelled, though it came out sounding more like a croak. He tried again, his voice a little louder this time. "_Murph_! Where are you?"

There was the faint sound of his brothers voice from somewhere behind him and he turned towards the sound, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to reach his twin. He scrambled down the shallow ditch by the side of the road, reaching a small fence which he easily climbed over; finding himself in what he guessed was a field. It was difficult to tell, really, since the smoke had gotten gradually thicker making it difficult for him to see anything more than a few feet in front of him. He covered his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, yelling out again. There was no reply this time.

He whirled round, desperate to catch some glimpse of his brother. He spotted a figure standing in the smoke and he broke into a run, relief flooding through him when he recognised it was Murphy.

"The fuck're y'doing Murph?" he yelled as soon as he got close enough, giving him a shove. "Y'nearly gave me a fuckin' heart attack; dissapearin' like tha'!"

The younger brother didn't even give any indication he had heard him. He just continued to stare blankly ahead, blue eyes wide with horror. Connor, feeling puzzled by his twin's strange behaviour looked up to see, what looked like large metal container lying on its side. There was a slight breeze which had blown away some of the smoke, but even then it still took him a moment to figure out that he was staring at.

It was only when he noticed the words '_American Airlines_' printed in large blue letters on the side of the container, that he realized he was looking at the remains of what must have been a pretty horrific plane crash. He took a step back, glancing up to see the ruins of what looked like the wing of the aircraft. The jet engine that had been attached to the wing had been torn off and was half buried in the dirt near their feet. A little beyond that he could see flames licking at a large hole in the side of the craft, where the seats on the inside were visible. He spotted what looked like the figure of a woman, who was still strapped into her seat; blood running in rivulets down her face.

Connor stumbled back and bumped into Murphy, who still hadn't spoken a single word.

"Murph." He said quietly. "Murph, we-we have t'go. We have t'leave."

The younger twin didn't answer.

"_Murph._" He grabbed him by the shoulder, whirling him round to face him and giving him a rough shake. "Y'need t'_listen _to me. I know we've seen some fucked up shit but y'can't let it get t'you. Not now. The fire's gonna get to the fuel tanks of t'plane and the whole things gonna fuckin' explode and take us out with it if we don't _leave _right t'fuck now!"

Murphy blinked, quickly coming back to his sense. He seemed to take what Connor had said into consideration and nodded slowly. "Right..." he said slowly. "Yer right."

They turned their backs on the flaming wreckage of the jet and headed back across the field to the car; clambering over the fence and up the slope. Connor got back behind the wheel and they quickly pulled away from the side of the road, leaving the devastation of the crash behind them. For a long time after that Murphy still refused to talk and insisted on answering any of his brother's meagre attempts at conversation with stubborn silence. Eventually, Connor gave up and decided to leave him to his own devices. They drove on in uncomfortable silence for a whole thirty minutes before the younger twin finally decided to speak up.

"How t'fuck did all this happen?"

Connor glanced up, surprised at the suddenness of the question. He hesitated momentarily, unsure of how to answer.

"Well...what d'you mean exactly?" he said, a little tentatively. Murphy sighed.

"'Mean...how could God turn His back on us like this? How could he let all this shit happen? What could've possibly happened that'd make Him so angry at us?"

Connor scoffed. "C'mon, Murph. Y'really think _God_ caused all of this?"

"Well what other fuckin' explanation is there?" the younger brother scowled, growing irritated. "If t'wasn't Him, then who fucking did all of this?"

"I don't fuckin' _know_, Murph." He snapped back, exasperated. "I don't know anymore than you do. I know this situation we're in is a fuckin' mess an' it seems like the whole world's gone t'shit but for Christ's sake, y'don't have to bite m'fuckin' head off!"

The younger twin seemed taken aback at that, falling silent again for a long moment.

"...M'sorry, Connor." He said eventually. "S'just...I don't fuckin' know what t'think anymore, y'know? 'Bout anything. Week ago we were worrying 'bout shit like...like breaking outta Hoag, but now? All tha' s'just meaningless. Stupid, really."

"Aye..." Connor agreed.

Murphy shook his head. "T'be honest, I'm more worried 'bout what's gonna happen t'us..." he said softly. "M'not sure we're gonna be able to survive this shit, Connor. Y'heard what they were sayin' on t'news; there's thousands, maybe even millions dead already from this...disease or whatever it is. What if something like that happens t'us?" His voice rose steadily with hysteria. "What if one of us ends up like those fuckin' _things _that we saw in-"

"Murph, fuckin' stop it alright?" Connor said sternly. "Last thing y'wanna do is start thinking like that. Yer not gonna do yourself any favours."

Murphy went quiet again, turning his vacant gaze to the road ahead.

"D'you think...Romeo made it out alright?" he asked after another awkward pause; causing Connor to freeze up momentarily. He found himself hit unexpectedly with an overwhelming feeling of guilt. With everything that had happened the last couple of days, he had completely forgotten about their Mexican friend.

"Oh, _fuck_..." he said.

"Y'forgot about him too, didn't you?" Murphy shook his head ruefully. "He was meant t'be our friend and we just...we fuckin' abandoned him."

"We didn't _abandon _him, for Christ's sake." Connor argued back furiously. "T'wasn't like that, Murph. You _know _it wasn't."

"But we never even _tried_ t'help him-"

"We never fuckin' got t'chance!" he snapped. "You know what it was like; the whole prison was fuckin' massacred, we barely even got out alive ourselves. There wasn't anytime t'worry about anyone else!"

Murphy scowled but didn't say anything more. The older twin sighed heavily and shook his head. "Look, we can't be held accountable for whatever happened t'Romeo. If anything has...Y'never know: he might've gotten out alright. He might be ok...He acts like a right fuckin' idiot sometimes, but he's not stupid. Not really. He might be alright..."

He trailed off, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see his brother watching him, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny. But rather than voice his obvious doubts, Murphy just turned his gaze back to the window; a frown still fixed on his face. Connor sighed inwardly, keeping his attention focused entirely on the empty road ahead.

It was plainly obvious that his twin didn't believe a word he had said. Not that he could blame him. He was finding it difficult to even convince himself...

* * *

Murphy stared with only half open eyes at the narrow country road ahead of him. After another twenty excruciating hours of travelling, they had finally reached the state of Georgia. But the younger brother was far from celebrating. He'd been driving for almost eight hours non-stop and was beyond exhausted, not to mention incredibly hungry. He'd hardly eaten anything the past few days, aside from a few packets of chips and cans of soda he'd managed to snatch from a convenience store by the roadside, when they'd stopped to hastily fill up the car. He had felt a little guilty about it, since it technically counted as stealing, but then again he hadn't really had any money on him to pay for what he'd stolen. Besides, judging from the state of the place, he hadn't been the first one to take something anyway.

There was a sudden loud beep from the dashboard, making him jump. The car swerved slightly to the left, but he managed to regain control with ease. He glanced down at the dash, his attention caught by the little red bulb beside the fuel gauge, which was flashing on and off. He read off the number displayed and swore loudly, slamming a fist on the steering wheel in frustration. The noise woke Connor, who had been asleep in the passenger seat.

"Murph? S'wrong?" he said blearily, rubbing at his eyes.

"We're outta fuel." Murphy replied tersely.

Connor blinked, sleep half asleep. "Wha'?"

"Said we're _outta gas_, Connor!" he snapped irately. "We're not gonna make it t'Atlanta."

There had been a few jerry cans packed into the trunk of the Chevy, but only one of them had actually contained any fuel. The rest, to their dismay, had been completely empty and what little gas they'd got hadn't been able to fill up the tank to more than halfway. Murphy had been close to kicking himself when they'd found this out. If only they had checked the trunk sooner, there might've been a chance they could've gotten enough fuel to get them to Atlanta; now it was probably too late.

The older brother sat up straighter, suddenly fully awake. "Fuckin' hell! Y'can't be serious? Y'sure yer reading the thing right?" he glanced over Murphy's shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the fuel gauge. He saw how low the dial was and fell back again, his heart sinking.

"How...how long y'been drivin' for?" He asked eventually, after a long uncomfortable pause.

"Too fuckin' long." Murphy sighed.

"This is Georgia now though, isn't it?" Connor carried on, a little more hopefully. "So...Atlanta shouldn't be too far away now, righ'? We might be able t'make it before we run out. We jus' need t'keep to the main roads an' we can get there faster. What Highway're we on righ' now anyway?" He glanced out of the window, frowning when he saw they were surrounded by vast dull yellow fields, that seemed to stretch out almost endlessly. "Where t'fuck _are_ we?"

Murphy didn't answer.

"Murph...Where are we?"

He just shrugged, vaguely. Connor stared at his brother, hands trembling with sudden barely controlled rage. "Y'got no fuckin' idea, do you?"

"M'not fuckin' lost-"

"Y'_are_ Murph!" Connor snapped. "Y'got us lost! Can't fuckin' _believe _you! We were meant t'stay on t'main roads once we got t'Georgia so we wouldn't get lost and then y'go and do the exact opposite! Y'never fuckin' _listen _t'me-"

"I _did _fuckin' listen!" Murphy replied sharply. "S'not my fault, aright? I _had _t'go off the Highway. I didn't have any other choice. There was a fuckin' pile up, took up the whole road."

The older twin hesitated, taken aback by this. "A pile up?" he repeated.

"Aye. Big eighteen wheeler truck got tipped over...on Highway 19, think it was. Whole thing went all the way across the fuckin' road; there was no way I could've gotten round it so I had t'go back."

"When t'fuck did that happen?" Connor asked. "I don't remember that."

"Think y'were sleeping still." Murphy explained.

"Oh...righ'."

There was an uncomfortable pause, broken when the younger brother suddenly sighed heavily, turning his attention back to the vast empty road ahead of them.

"Never meant for this t'happen." He said. "I was thinkin' I'd just be able to find a side road to get m'round the pile up and back on the highway but...I must've taken a wrong turn and now I've got no fuckin' idea where I'm going." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. "All these country roads look the same. Feel like I've been driving down the same fuckin' street over and over again for hours now." He glanced out the side window, abruptly perking up when he caught sight of something. "Though, actually...don't think I've seen this place before."

"What?" Connor leaned over , peering out of the windshield to see what it was his brother was talking about. He scanned up ahead and quickly spotted what looked like a little farm house nestled at the side of the road, half hidden by a small cluster of bare trees. As they drew closer he noticed a rust coloured pick up truck, that looked like it had seen better days, sitting in the dirt driveway, Murphy drew up alongside the building, bringing the car to a stop at the end of the drive and staring up at the house with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Y'think anyone's home?" he asked quietly.

Connor shrugged. "Dunno." His gaze fell again on the truck. "Maybe..."

"Should we go knock?"

"Y'really think that's a good idea? What if they're like tha' guy in Boston? Couple of screws loose an' all that?"

Murphy snorted. "Don't be so fuckin' dramatic. We'll be fine. We're a long way from all tha' shit now. Should be alrigh' here." He kicked open the door, grateful for the opportunity to stretch his stiff legs. "Sides, they might even let us borrow some food, if we're lucky." He added over his shoulder as he headed up the dirt track towards the house.

"Sounds like wishful thinking." The older brother muttered under his breath. He clambered reluctantly out of the car, glancing around apprehensively, before he followed after his twin. He was struck with a sudden sense of unease as he drew closer to the house; he couldn't put his finger on it, but something didn't seem quite right. Murphy, who obviously didn't share his feelings of discomfort, stood at the front entrance to the house, hammering away loudly at the door.

"Hello!" he called loudly. "S'anyone there?"

There was no reply.

After a few minutes of knocking with no answer, Murphy quickly gave up on the door; moving on to the window next to it. He leaned his forehead against the glass and peered into the gloomy interior, trying to catch a glimpse of movement within.

"Hello?" he called again.

"For Christ's sake, Murph!" Connor chided. "Don't go lookin' in t'fuckin' windows; yer gonna scare them!"

He frowned and straightened back up. "There's no one home." He twitched, glancing over his shoulder. "D'you hear that?"

"What?"

"S'like...a buzzing noise. Flies or something. D'you not hear it?"

Connor shook his head. Murphy turned towards another window, pushing a small rocking chair out of his way so he could stoop down to see inside. The older McManus sighed inwardly, rolling his eyes at his brother.

"There's no point in wasting anymore time here, Murph." He told him. "There's no one here; we should just go. We need t'get back on the road t'Atlanta."

Murphy said nothing.

"Murph?" he repeated, turning round to face his brother, who stood completely frozen in place, leaning against the windowsill for support. There was a look of such absolute horror on his face that Connor felt his blood turn to ice in his veins. "_Murph_." He said again, frantically. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Instead of replying, his twin simply spun on his heel and stumbled away from the window, clambering down the porch steps and away across the drive, completely ignoring his twins calls. He only made it halfway to the car, before he abruptly doubled over and threw up in the bushes.

Connor turned to look at the window where Murphy had been standing just a few seconds before, a cold feeling of dread settling in his stomach. Reluctantly, he crossed the porch and steadied himself before he stooped down and peered inside the house. The first thing he noticed was the irritating buzz of flies that his brother had mention. Then, there was the faint, coppery smell of blood. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom inside he spotted the figure of a man crumpled in an armchair in the corner. Blood was splattered all over his farmers overalls and the collar of his shirt. A shotgun was clutched tightly in his hands, pointing up towards his chin. Connor felt his stomach turn over as his gaze fell on his head, where a good chunk of his skull had been completely blown away by the shotgun blast. On the wall behind him, in a messy, bloody scrawl, someone had written the words '_God Forgive Us.'_

Fighting the sudden overwhelming urge to vomit, Connor quickly backed away from the window, gulping in deep breaths of fresh air. He glanced up to see Murphy still crouched in the driveway.

"Y'alright?" he called, when he'd managed to get his breath back. It seemed like a pretty stupid question to ask, considering what they'd both just seen, but he had no idea what else to say. Murphy raised his head, face pale, and gave him a thumbs up. Connor found himself laughing, even though there wasn't anything all that funny about their current situation.

"Think s'about time we leave?" He asked. "There's not much for us t'see here, I don't think."

Murphy nodded, getting a little unsteadily to his feet and heading back to the Chevy that was still parked at the end of the driveway. Before Connor could follow him, he caught sight of something a little further down the road, that made him pause. With all the time it had taken them to drive down to Georgia from Boston they'd seen very little in the way of cars. So it felt almost weird for him to see one now, sitting motionless right in the middle of the road.

"Hey, Murph!" he called to his brother. "Y'see that?"

"What?"

"There's a fuckin' car down the road there."

"There is?" Murphy craned his neck, trying to see past the tree lines. "Is there someone in it?"

"Dunno. Don't think so. S'not moving. Must've been left."

"Either that, or there's a dead body in it." The younger brother remarked with a frown.

"We might be able t'get some gas from it." Connor countered as he made his way down the porch steps. "S'worth a look, right?"

Murphy didn't look like he agreed with him, but he never made any effort to voice his uncertainty.

"We can jus' walk." The older McManus continued. "Should only take five minutes."

"Wha' bout the Chevy?" Murphy asked.

"What about it?"

"Well we can't jus' leave it can we? Someone could take it."

Connor snorted, passing by his brother as he headed down the driveway. "There's no one around _to _take it." He called over his shoulder. "Don't be fuckin' stupid."

The younger twin muttered something irritably under his breath, following after his brother as they turned into the empty road and headed for the apparently abandoned car. It was eerily quiet; the only sound was the steadying thumping of their footsteps against he concrete underfoot. As they drew closer to the abandoned vehicle, Connor noticed the red and blue lights attached to the roof and the words '_Police_' printed in bold on the side.

"_Fuck_, Connor. It's a police car!" Murphy said, suddenly excited.

"Aye."

"D'you think there's maybe guns?" he went on eagerly, peering in the back window. "We could use somethin' t'defend ourselves."

"Dunno." Connor reached cautiously for the door handle and tugged the door open. "Would've thought whoever had it would've taken that kinda stuff with them." He said.

"Less they were dead."

"S'pose." He collapsed into the drivers seat of the car, glancing around the dashboard for anything useful. He felt his hopes rise when he saw that the keys were still in the ignition but when he turned the engine on, it stuttered and coughed once, before dying completely.

Murphy reappeared at his side in an instant. "S'it working?" he asked hopefully.

Connor's gaze fell on the fuel gauge, where the dial was sitting firmly in the red. "Don't think so." He said. "Looks like this cop or whoever it was drivin' this thing had t'same problem we do."

"Shit...Hand over t'keys for a second. M'gonna see if I can get into the trunk; they might have something in there."

"Aye, sure." He handed them over and the younger brother disappeared round the back of the vehicle. The older twin turned his attention back to the dashboard, to see if there was anything there that could be useful. Above his head, the sun visor had been left flipped down and there were some important looking files attached to it with elastic. He considered taking them down and having a look at them, but decided against it. He tried checking the glove compartment but aside from an empty folder and a bottle of warm water it was pretty much empty.

Abruptly his gaze fell on the car's two-way radio console that was set into the car's dash. If he was able to get it to work, then there could be a chance he could maybe get in touch with the military camp in Atlanta. He wasn't sure how far their reach was, but it was probably worth a shot. He scanned over the various different brightly coloured buttons, his eye drawn to a large red one. Hesitated for only a moment, he reached down and pressed it and a second later there was a sudden burst of static as the radio came to life.

* * *

Carl sat with his chin in his hands, scuffing his toes in the dirt. He was feeling bored out of his mind and more than a little lonely, considering he didn't really have anyone to talk to since the others were all too busy with chores to come and see him. He sighed softly, jumping when he was startled by a sudden crackle from Dale's old radio. He leaned over, intrigued, and started fiddling with the various buttons, wondering what had caused the noise. After a few long seconds of silence, it appeared that the sudden noise was just a one off thing, and he sat back again, disappointed.

Someone called his name and he glanced up, his mouth pulling up into a grin when he spotted Sophia clambering up the slope towards him, breathless and smiling all over her face.

"Hey, Sophia!" he greeted his friend eagerly. "What's up?"

She paused for a second, taking a moment to get her breath back. "Me and Eliza..." she panted. "We just found...the grossest thing..._ever_!"

"What was it?"

She straightened up, smirking. "Guess!"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Tell me."

"It was a _spider_. A _gigantic _one. We saw it when we were coming back up from helping with the laundry and it was sitting on the tree and Eliza almost _touched _it!"

"Wow! How big was it?"

"Bigger than my hand." Sophia told him, stretching out her fingers to demonstrate.

"Really? That's so _cool_!"

"It wasn't cool! It was _gross_!"

"Spiders _are _cool." Carl insisted. "I wish I could've seen it..."

Sophia brushed off her hands on her skirt, frowning. "It might still be there." She said. "But I dunno if I'd be able to find where it was though..."

"It's alright...not that big of a deal." He reassured her, turning his attention back to the old radio. Sophia watched him, curious, as continued to fiddle with the buttons on the console.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just...I thought I heard something earlier. It made a weird noise..."

"Maybe its someone trying to get in touch with us?"

"Maybe. Though I didn't hear any voices."

Sophia fell silent, frowning thoughtfully. "I remember this one time, when I was younger; I saw this movie on TV...'bout this guy who could talk to dead people through this broken radio he had. I mean...I know it was just a movie and it's not real...but it was still pretty creepy." She shuddered. "I had nightmares for weeks after."

"Would be pretty cool if we could talk to ghosts though." He admitted as he picked up the microphone. "_Hellooo_?" he called into it. "Any ghosts out there? We have a message from the world of the living; please stay _away _from the light. I repeat: stay _away _from the_ light_."

Sophia raised an eyebrow, shaking her head at him. "You are _so _weird." She said, before she broke down laughing and Carl soon joined in. But the smiles were quickly wiped off their faces as another burst of static erupted from the radio and in amongst the white noise, there was what sounded like a voice.

"_...uckin' sto-"_

Carl glanced down at the radio, wide eyed. "Did you hear that?" he asked. She nodded, eyeing the device at his feet warily as if it were a bomb about to go off.

"H...Hello?" Carl spoke into the microphone tentatively. "Is somebody there?"

There was another few long moments of silence and for a fleeting moment he wondered if they'd both just imagined the voice. Abruptly, there was another crackle and then:

"_...What t'fuck d'you think yer doin'?! Put it down!"_

Carl very nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden shout, dropping the microphone like it was red hot. He leapt up from his seat, bumping into Sophia and the two backed away from the radio as it continued to hurl abuse and expletives at them, in a loud, heavily accented voice.

"_Y'fuckin' dumb shit! What're y'playin' at? Yer gonna break it...Fuckin' stop tha'!"_

"Carl!"

The boy leapt about a foot in the air, whirling round to see Amy, Andrea's younger sister, glowering down at him.

"Was that you just now?" she asked. "What would your Mom think if she heard you cussing like that?"

He could only stand and stare back at her, unsure of how to respond. "I...I uh..." he stammered.

Sophia stepped forward, taking it upon herself to come to her friends aid. "It wasn't him!" she protested. "It was the gh-" She caught herself before she managed to say the word 'ghost.' "-It was the man on the radio. We heard a voice and we-"

"What! You heard someone on the radio? Are you sure?"

Sophia nodded vigorously and Amy dropped the bundle of kindling she was holding and rushed over, kneeling down and snatching up the microphone from where it lay at Carls' feet.

"Hello? _Hello_! Is anyone there, over?" She said.

There was a pause, a crackle and then the voice came back stronger than ever.

"_Wait, wait; did y'hear that? I fuckin' heard someone...Would y'shut t'fuck up for a second, Murph. Hello?"_

Amy laughed outright, smiling triumphantly. "Yes, _hello_! I can hear you! Over."

"_...Jesus fuckin' Christ how d'you work this thing...I can't-" _A burst of white noise cut off the speaker momentarily. _"Hello? Fuckin' piece of shit-"_

There was a loud thud on the other line and then the voice was again lost amongst the static. Amy's face fell and she swore under her breath, hitting the radio on its side in frustration. Sophia and Carl glanced up as Dale approached them, looking down at the blonde girl crouched beside the radio with concern.

"You ok, Amy? There somethin' going on here?" he asked.

"There's someone on the radio. I can't...I think the signals lost. I can't get a hold of them again." She turned abruptly to Carl. "D'you think you could go get Shane for me? He knows how to work this thing better than I do."

Carl nodded and turned on his heel, breaking into a run as he headed to the other end of the campsite. Sophia watched him go and then turned back to Amy who continued to struggle with the old radio.

"Hello? _Hello_? Are you still there, over?"

There was no response.

"God _damn it._" She hissed through her teeth. "Why won't this thing _work_."

"Take it easy." Dale said, trying to placate her. "Here's Shane coming now; sure he can do somethin' about it."

The blonde glanced up over her shoulder to see Carl hurtling back across the campsite towards them, the police officer hot on his heels. She stood and handed the microphone over to him as he knelt down beside the radio. He punched a few buttons and turned a dial, before thumbing the 'call' button.

"Hello, hello. S'the person who called still on the air?" he asked.

There was a pause, a crackle and then the distinct sound of laughter on the other line.

"_See, Connor? Told you I could get it t'work..." _A pause, then: "_Thought y'said t'was a girl talkin' t'you? That's not a fuckin' girl!"_

Shane smirked, catching Amy's eye before he again spoke into the microphone. "Hello? Are you receiving me, over?"

"_Oh shit, s'he talkin' t'me?...I can't...I dunno how t'fuckin' work this thing. What button d'you press-"_

There was another burst of static cutting of the voice. Shane scowled.

"Hello? Can I ask the unknown persons to please respond, over."

The voices remained quiet.

Shane sighed in frustration and thumbed the 'call' button again. "This is officer Shane Walsh broadcasting to persons unknown, could you please respond; I repeat, please _respond_, over."

There was no reply.

* * *

Connor stared down at the microphone in his hand, as if it were some rabid animal about to bite him. In the passenger seat beside him, Murphy shook his head in disbelief.

"Christ, Connor." He said softly. "He's a fuckin' _cop_."

"Aye, I _heard him_." His brother replied dryly.

Murphy turned round to face him fully. "What're we gonna do?"

"What d'you mean 'what're we gonna do'? What else is there for us t'do? This is t'first sign of life we've got since we left Boston; we might be able to get some information from these people."

"Bu' we can't tell them 'bout us. What if they know who we are. What if this cop...Welsh, are whatever his fuckin' name is; what if he recognises us? What're we gonna do then?"

"He's _not _gonna recognise us." Connor said firmly. "This is a completely different part of t'country from Boston; half the people down here probably haven't even heard f'us. Sides, case you haven't realized, I think there'll be more important things for him t'worry 'bout right now."

And before Murphy could protest further, he turned back to the radio, clicking the 'call' button on the console.

"We're still here." He said. "Over."

There was a pause, then a short laugh from the man on the other line.

"_Thank God, for that. Thought I'd lost the transmission." _He cleared his throat. "_Can I ask who I'm talking to?"_

The older McManus hesitated only a second before answering. "M'name's Connor." He said carefully. "M'brother's Murphy."

"_How many are in your group? Is it just you two?"_

"Aye. S'just us two."

Another crackle of static. _"That's some accent, y'got there. Take it your not local t'Georgia?"_

"Nah. We...we're both Irish. Though we've been livin' in Boston for a couple years now."

"_Boston?_" 'Shane' sounded puzzled. "_That's a pretty long way from here. How'd you get this far South?"_

"We drove. Borrowed a car from...from a friend but we're startin' to run low on gas an' I'm worried we're not gonna make it t'Atlanta."

There was an uncomfortable silence on the other line. _"Trust me, man. You do _not_ wanna go t'Atlanta."_

Connor froze. Beside him, Murphy, who had been sitting languidly staring out the window, suddenly bolted upright, alert.

"What did he say?" he asked. "T'fuck's he talking about, Connor?"

Ignoring his brothers questioning looks, Connor turned back to the radio. "What d'you mean? Why won't we wanna go there?" he asked.

"_Y'haven't heard? Atlanta's done. It got overrun."_

"...What?"

"_You can't go into the city. It ain't safe."_

"But...tha' can't be right!" Connor protested. "They told us...we heard on t'radio there was a military camp here."

"_Yeah, we were told that too. I was on my way into the city from Kentucky with...with some people an' I saw the place getting napalmed. There's nothing left there now."_

Murphy, who had remained silent for the most part of this revelation, suddenly moved with lightening quick reactions and snatched the microphone from his brother.

"So yer sayin' tha' we drove over a thousand miles t'get to this fuckin' military camp only t'find that it doesn't fuckin' exist anymore? S'that what yer telling me?"

"'_Fraid so. I know this must be pretty difficult for you folks t'hear, but it ain't all bad. We got a group here at-"_

Not wanting to hear anymore, Murphy threw down the microphone on to the dashboard with a loud crack and kicked open his door. Ignoring his brothers calls, he exited the vehicle and stomped off down the road, yelling and cursing as he did so. Unsure of how to deal with his twins sudden meltdown, Connor stayed put in the front seat of the police car; thinking it might be better to let him vent some of his anger out first. He turned his attention back to the radio, which was thankfully still working, and picked it back up.

"_Hello? Connor? Murphy? You guys still with us?"_

Connor took a deep breath to steady himself. "Aye. Aye, we are." He said. "Sorry 'bout Murph. He jus' sort of...he's got a bit of a temper on him an' we've...we've both been through a lot."

"_S'understandable. I would probably react the same if I was in your situation." _Shane said. "_You've come a long way for nothin' and I understand why you'd be pissed off. But I'm willing to throw you guys a lifeline."_

"Lifeline? What d'you mean?"

"_Well, like I said before I was on my way into Atlanta when all this shit went down. We didn't have anywhere else to turn so we made ourselves our own little camp, just outside the city. There's about fifteen of us out here, all together. F'you like, you would be welcome to come down here and join us. Place is relatively safe; we don't get hardly any walkers out here."_

"Walkers?" Connor frowned. "Are those what y'call those..._things _that go around eating people?"

"_Ain't the official name, but...yeah, that's what we call 'em."_

"Righ'...so then...where 'bout is this camp y'got?"

"_It's a couple miles out from Atlanta. A place called Rockdale Quarry. Where are you guys at?"_

"Uh..." he hesitated. "Not quite sure at t'moment."

"_Y'got lost?"_

"Aye. We're not local here, like y'said an' well...Murph's a bit of an idiot when it comes to directions. We were tryin' t'get to on to...Highway 20 I think t'was. Tha' was meant t'be a direct route t'Atlanta. But there was a pile up an' Murph had t'go around it and we kinda lost it a bit there..."

"_Well that should work out pretty well. F'you get back on to the Highway, s'about a forty minute drive to Rockdale. Think your car could make it that far?"_

"Aye, should hope so."

"_Great. Should think that-"_

There was a pause and a quiet crackle of static noise. From somewhere on the other line, there was the faint sound of shouting voices and Shane swore. "_Look man, I'm sorry but I gotta go."_

"Something happened?" Connor asked, suddenly concerned.

"_Nah, s'just...We got a group that went out scavenging into the city and I think that's them back now. I wanna go make sure everything's alright with 'em."_

"Thought you said it wasn't safe t'go into the city?"

"_It ain't. But we still need t'get food for everyone and there ain't many other options for us." _There was another pause. _"I really gotta go, but hopefully see you and your brother soon, right?"_

"Aye, sure."

There was a crackle of static and then the radio fell silent. Connor replaced the microphone and, mentally preparing himself for a whole lot of abuse, opened the door and stepped out of the car. The road behind him was, surprisingly, empty. His gaze wandered over the road and surrounding field but Murphy was nowhere to be seen. He continued on down the road to the farmhouse and found his brother sitting on the hood of the Chevy, a thunderous expression on his face.

"Y'alright?" he asked, as soon as he got close enough.

The younger twin said nothing.

Connor stood for a moment, surveying him, before he sighed and gingerly, took a seat beside his brother. For a long few minutes the two sat in complete silence. Eventually, growing uneasy with the quiet, the older McManus decided to speak up again.

"The cop, Shane...he said they've got this little camp, a group of people on the outskirts of the city. Some place called Rockdale or somethin'."

"So?" Murphy said bitterly.

"So, I think that's gotta be our next stop." Connor said. "Mean let's face it, we've got nowhere else t'go now, do we? Atlanta's done. We don't know where we are. This Rockdale place's our best bet."

"An' what if they're wrong? What if s'not as safe as their making it out t'be?"

Connor shrugged. "Let's be real here, Murph. I don't think there's anywhere that's really safe anymore. Everything's different now. There are no safe places, not really. But, I'd like t'think we'd stand a better chance with a larger group, than just us two, y'know?"

"Don't think t'makes tha' much difference."

"Aye. But still, might as well try it, right? Y'never know. Might be nice to get t'see some new faces." Connor said. "'Specially since m'getting pretty fuckin' tired of being stuck with you all the time, y'miserable fuck."

"Fuckin' blow me." Murphy said sharply, but he was at least smiling a little now. Connor laughed and patted his twin's shoulder.

"C'mon," he said. "Let's get t'fuck outta here."


	7. Lost

"This is _fuckin'_ ridiculous!" Murphy exclaimed irritably; slamming his fist down on the dashboard in frustration. Connor clenched his jaw, saying nothing. As much as he would've liked to have been able to vent out his own anger he knew it was pointless. Throwing a tantrum wasn't exactly going to help improve their situation any.

He tried his best to block out the incessant complaints from the seat next to him and turned his attention to the deserted road ahead of him. He remembered vaguely the man on the police radio (he had already forgotten his name) had said it would only take them something like forty minutes to reach Rockdale from where they were.

That had been almost three days ago.

The fact that they had been given so little directions didn't really help them much either; as if it wasn't already difficult enough, considering they were in unfamiliar territory. Despite all of their shortcomings, they _had_ eventually managed to find their way back on to Highway 20 (after wasting nearly another full day driving aimlessly round the Georgian wilderness.) But as they were passing through some suburban area in the city outskirts (Gresham Park, if he remembered right) there had been a loud bang from under the Chevy's hood and it had rolled to a halt right in the middle of the empty road. The twins had scrambled to get out of the vehicle, to see if the situation could be salvaged. Although neither of them were exactly experts when it came to cars; even a moron could tell that when smoke started pouring from the engine, something was wrong.

With the Chevy's temporary engine failure, they had been left in an extremely vulnerable position: without a means of escape, dangerously close to the perilous, corpse-infested streets of Atlanta. Having no other choice they were forced to abandon the vehicle after a handful of walkers appeared from the darkened buildings, stumbling towards them on unsteady legs. They managed to find refuge in a tiny convenience store on the corner of the street. A grate had been pulled down over the display window and, though the front door had been left unlocked, as the brothers ran inside, Connor found a set of keys on the floor nearby and managed to lock it shut again, just in time. They'd retreated to the back of the store as the walkers outside reached the door, snarling and snapping their bloodied teeth as they slammed their fists on the metal protecting the window.

The brothers had been trapped in the small store for the best part of two days after that...Then again, it hadn't necessarily been a bad thing. The shelves were still reasonably well stocked up, so even if they'd been stuck there a week, they wouldn't have starved. There'd also been a couple of floor rugs on sale near the back of the store, which they were able to use as crude beds. Sleeping helped pass some of the time; though they didn't get much considering their discomfort from laying on the floor and the near constant noise from the walkers on the outside who persistently remained on the doorstep of the store, continually hammering away at the window.

It was on their second night in the store, at sometime around midnight, when they were both abruptly awakened by a horrific scream from the street outside, followed by several explosive gunshots. The noise from the walkers gradually died down as they moved away, pursuing the source of the noise. The second it had gone completely silent, Murphy had been desperate to leave, not wanting to waste anymore time. But Connor remained adamant that they wait another few hours; it was still too dark outside to see much. They hung around the store for a while longer, just until the sky had lightened a little. It was quiet out on the street and when they left, they discovered that, aside from a few bodies strewn about the sidewalk, there was no sign of the walkers from earlier.

They hurried back to the Chevy, which was still sitting immobile in the middle of the road where they'd left it. Connor found the keys for the vehicle on the floor under the drivers seat and stuck them in the ignition. The engine stuttered and coughed violently and though it took a few tries, by some miracle, the car still worked. They were soon on the move again, though they quickly discovered they couldn't go much faster than fifty without a horrible rattling sound emitting from under the hood.

Even now, there was still the occasional guttural noise from the engine, which worried Connor. As if they didn't already have enough to worry about with the fuel problem, now there was the constant threat of the car breaking down again. It was pretty clear the vehicle was on its last legs and he didn't think they could go on for much longer.

"Connor..._Connor_! Stop t'car!"

The older twin was jerked out of his thoughts when Murphy suddenly yelled out and he slammed his foot down on the brake. The engine stuttered and the car ground to a stop.

"What? What is it?" he asked. "Did y'see something?"

He glanced out the side window, but couldn't see any real cause for alarm. The road was still pretty much deserted, and they hadn't passed by any buildings for a good while; there was nothing but trees on either side of them.

"What t'hell was that about?" Connor asked, turning to his brother., who was gazing out the back window, his eyes narrowed.

"Back up a bit." He said.

"What? Why?"

"Just do it, alrigh'?"

Connor rolled his eyes. "...Fuck's sake..." he muttered tetchily, as he reached for the gear stick. The car reversed back a few feet and he spotted something he hadn't noticed before: to their left, there was a break in the tree line, where a small dirt track lead away from the main road.

"D'you remember what tha' cop said? 'Bout the camp?"

"What about it?"

"'Bout where it was? Wha' the place was called?"

Connor hesitated, taking a moment to cast his mind back. "...Somethin' about a quarry?" he said tentatively. "Rock...something?"

"Aye, well he definitely said something 'bout a quarry, didn't he?"

"Aye...think so."

"Well look at tha' up there." Murphy pointed towards the opening, where a small white sign stood, half hidden by the trees. He squinted, only just able to make out the words '_Quarry Area: Keep Out' _printed on it in black.

"Y'think this is the place he was talking 'bout?" His twin asked hopefully.

"Maybe...maybe not."

"S'not like we've got much else t'go on do we?" he said impatiently. "Might as well take a look, right?"

"Aye. S'pose yer right." Connor admitted sullenly, after a pause. He changed gear and turned the car around, towards the opening. They drove on, following the twisting and turning path of the dirt track as it lead away from the main road. The Chevy's engine rattled and groaned as they bounced along the uneven ground; they couldn't go much faster than at a snails pace for fear of the car breaking down again. After a few minutes of driving the trail evened out into more solid concrete and Connor slowed the car to a stop as they turned the corner. Ahead of them, there was just more empty road; lined with trees on either side.

No signs of life anywhere.

The older brother hesitated. "What d'you think?" he asked his brother.

"S'bit quiet." Murphy remarked.

"Maybe we're at t'wrong place? Maybe it's somewhere else?"

He shrugged vaguely and reached for the door handle, shoving it open and clambering out of the car. Connor faltered; for some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, he felt distinctly uneasy about the whole situation. He watched as Murphy scrambled up the slope, and disappeared round the corner, before he too climbed out of the car. Like his brother had said, it was far too quiet outside; the only noise came from the buzz of insects from the trees nearby and Murphy's receding footsteps as he continued on down the road. He stuck his hands in his pockets and sighed. It looked like they'd hit yet another dead end; there was clearly no camp here. It could be that they were at the wrong place, but the more he looked around, the more he began to notice things; signs that maybe there _had_ been people here, at least at some point. There were numerous tyre tracks running up and down all over the road, recent ones by the looks of it. To his left, there was what looked like the remains of a small campfire: burnt wood stacked up in a pile, surrounding by various bits and pieces of debris.

Connor continued on up the road, turning the corner to find Murphy standing next to what looked like a very flashy sports car, parked on the shoulder of the road, in the shade of the trees. As he got closer he noticed someone had left a piece of paper hanging in the cars window, with a message scrawled messily on it in black marker pen.

"What's that?" he asked his twin as he got close enough..

"They've gone." Murphy replied bitterly. "Whoever was here, they've already left."

"You fuckin' serious?"

"Aye." He scoffed. "Least they had the fuckin' courtesy t'leave us a message, right?"

Connor peered down at the paper. The note was addressed to someone called 'Morgan' and didn't really have much to offer by way of information. It simply read: _'Going to CDC. This area not safe.' _

He glanced at the name signed at the bottom of the paper, frowning. "Who the fuck's _Rick_?" he asked.

"Don't know. Don't fuckin' care either." Murphy retorted. "Wha' matters is: whoever _was _here, they're gone now, for whatever reason, and we've got no fuckin' backup plan."

"We'll figure somethin' out." His brother reassured him. "S'pose we can't stay here, t'any rate."

"Wouldn't want to anyway. There's fuckin' bodies all over the place."

Connor was justifiably taken aback by this. "Y'_what_?"

"You didn't _see _them? There a huge fuckin' pile up the road there. Someone torched 'em up pretty bad."

The older brother glanced over his shoulder, quickly spotting the heap of charred remains sitting in the middle of the road. Burnt and blackened limbs were sticking out in all directions and there were some scraps of ruined clothing strewn about the surrounding ground.

"Jesus _Christ_." Connor said, aghast. "Why the _fuck_ would they do that?"

Murphy shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe that's what they do with the...walkers or whatever it is they call those fuckin' _things_...Maybe that's how y'kill them?"

"Aye...s'pose tha' makes sense." He turned his back on the pile of dead bodies, and immediately froze when his gaze fell on the figure of a woman, standing a little further up the road just by the tree line. It was almost as if she had just materialised out of thin air. For a brief second, he stupidly thought she might actually be a survivor of sorts. That they'd found someone else alive. Then he looked closer and noticed that she was missing her left hand, as well as half her face. Her clothes were coated in dried blood and her eyes were an abnormal pale white colour; disturbingly vacant. Connor grabbed his brothers arm to get his attention and the younger twin whirled round, cursing when he caught sight of the woman.

"Fuckin' hell! Where'd _she_ come from?" Murphy cried, taking a step back as she limped forward, snarling and stumbling over her own feet as she moved towards them. The brothers broke into a run, sprinting past her as several more walkers appeared from the trees, all of them growling and reaching out with gnarled hands, trying to catch a hold of them. Luckily, they were a lot faster than the monsters were, easily able to outrun them. They reached the Chevy and wrenched the doors open, clambering inside. Connor fumbled for the keys and jammed them into the ignition. There was a moment of sheer terror when he turned the keys and the engine stuttered, refusing to start. He tried a second time, ignoring Murphy's panicked yells for him to hurry up, and the motor roared to life. The car lurched forward and they sped off down the road, watching in the rear-view mirror as the walkers stumbling after the car grew gradually smaller and smaller; until they turned the corner and they disappeared from sight altogether.

* * *

Neither of them spoke for a long time after that.

They hadn't really been in the mood for talking anyway, considering they both still shaken up after the close call back at the quarry. After their hasty departure from the camp, they'd continued driving along the winding country roads, despite the fact they had little to no idea where they were actually going.

"What t'fuck're we gonna do Connor?" Murphy asked, abruptly breaking the silence. His voice shook slightly with emotion and just from stealing a glancing at him, could tell he was close to breaking point. He couldn't exactly blame him for it; their luck so far had been nothing short of terrible.

"S'pose there's not much we can do." He said bleakly. "Just keep driving; maybe we'll find somewhere t'stay for the night..."

"We _can't_ keep goin' like this." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mean, what're we gonna do when we run outta fuel and we don't have a car anymore? We're gonna be completely _fucked_!"

"What would you suggest we do then? 'Cause I'm all fuckin' outta ideas!" Connor snapped.

Murphy snorted. "Y'kidding me? Y'were the one who was always coming up with t'plans..."

"Aye. That was _before_ the world went t'shit."

"Righ'..."

Connor sighed heavily. "I dunno what we're gonna do...Y'never know though. We might get lucky. Maybe we'll find a gas station t'fix the car. Maybe we'll find somewhere to safe where we can hunker down till all this shit blows over."

"Aye. Chance'd be a fine thing."

The older brother smiled half-heartedly; turning his attention back to the road. They'd made little headway since leaving the camp at Rockdale; in fact, he was afraid they'd gotten themselves even more lost, if that was possible. All of the country roads looked almost exactly the same and it was practically impossible to pinpoint exactly where they were. The narrow road ahead of them stretched out, seemingly endless. They hadn't seen another living soul in days...he was beginning to doubt they ever would.

But then, just as the thought had crossed his mind, his attention was grabbed by a sudden flash of colour by the side of the road. He turned his head and spotted the figure of a young girl sitting, curled up with her arms wrapped round her knees; half hidden in the long grass on the shoulder of the road. Her thick, dark hair was scraped back into a ponytail and she looked like she couldn't have been older than eleven or twelve years old. Because of the way she was sitting, with her forehead resting on her knees, it was difficult to see her face so he couldn't be entirely sure whether she was a walker or not. She raised her head as they passed her by, and Connor was amazed that there was an actual sign of intelligence in her eyes, which were a dark brown; unlike those of the walkers which were vacant and abnormally pale. He slammed his foot down on the brake and as the car rolled to a halt the girl clambered to her feet, suddenly frightened.

"Connor? _Connor_! The fuck're you doing?" Murphy asked, as the older twin reached for the door handle. "Where're you going?"

"Didn't y'see? There's a fuckin' _kid _back there! She's _alive_!"

"What?"

Connor kicked open the door and scrambled out of the car. He took a step forward and then stopped, hesitating when he saw the look of terror on the girl's face. She backed away from the road, looking like she was about to take off at any second. He held out his hands in a placating manner, trying to show her he meant no harm.

"Hey, s'alright." He called over to her. "Y'got nothin' to be afraid of. We're not gonna hurt you."

The girl's hands was trembling as she took another step back. "_Fuera_! _Déjame en paz_!" she cried angrily.

Connor hesitated, taken aback by this. "Uh..." he racked his brains, trying to think of something to say. His Spanish was a little on the rusty side; it was one of the few languages he spoke that he had trouble with. "_Por favor_, _no_...uh _miedo_? _Shit_." He turned his head slightly, able to catch a glimpse of his brother, who was still sitting in the car. "Murph?" he called. "Y'think you could help me with this? Yer better at Spanish than I am."

"Fuck's sake." He heard his brother mutter, as he shoved open the car door. He glanced back to the girl who, on seeing Murphy, gave a sudden cry of alarm and fear; moving back another few steps.

"_Papá!" _She shrieked over her shoulder. "_Obtener el arma! Papá!"_

Before Connor could stop her, she whirled round and broke into a run, hurtling through the long grass and disappearing round the corner, out of sight. Without wasting any time, he spun on his heel and sprinted after the girl; stumbling and tripping on the uneven ground. He skidded round the corner, turning into another narrower road, leading away from the main one. Up ahead, a beat up, rusted car was parked by the side of the street, in the shade of some nearby trees. Three people were standing by the car's bumper: a man and a woman, and a small boy, of about eight years of age. They must have been of some relation to the girl, as they old had the same dark hair and tan skin as her. She ran straight into the woman's arms, who turned to look at Connor, fear evident in her brown eyes. The man's expression was thunderous as he strode forward, reaching into his pocket and the older McManus skidded to a halt when he pulled out a gun and pointed it square at his head.

"Wait, _wait_!" he cried, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't shoot! _Por favor_! _Lo siento_, _no_...uh _intención..."_

The man hesitated, looking perplexed. Cautiously, he lowered his gun a fraction. "You speak Spanish?" he asked.

Connor blinked. "You speak _English_?"

"Yeah...You sound kinda surprised."

"Aye. Well...s'just..." he glanced back to the young girl who was watching him with narrowed eyes from behind who he presumed was her mother, "Yer, daughter...she was speaking Spanish so I mean...I thought..." he trailed off, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Look, never mind. It doesn't matter. Can y'just put the gun down? M'sorry I scared yer kid, alrigh'? I didn't mean to, honest t'God I didn't. S'just that...we've been travelling for so long an' we haven't seen a livin' person since-"

"Wait, back up a second. You said '_we_'? Who's we?"

Before Connor could reply there was a startled yell from behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to see Murphy stomping towards them.

"The fuck's going on?" he yelled indignantly. "What t'fuck're y'playing at running, Connor? M'getting sick of you always-" he froze, his gaze abruptly falling on the gun in the other man's hand. "Holy fuckin' _shit_!"

The older twin turned back to the Hispanic, who was staring past him, at his younger brother. He was sure he could almost see a hint of recognition in his eyes as he dropped the weapon to his side.

"Daryl?" he said, incredulous. "The hell're you doing here, man? I thought you went to the CDC with the others?"

Murphy stared back at him, perplexed. "What're you talkin' about? Who the fuck's _Daryl?_" he glanced over his shoulder, almost as if expecting someone to appear behind him.

"_You _are." The man said insistently. "...Aren't you?"

"_Fuck no_!"

"Y'must be mistaken." Connor said. "That there's m'brother, Murphy. We...we don't know anyone called Daryl."

"Huh." He glanced Murphy up and down, looking like he still didn't properly believe them. "S'pretty weird." He turned to the woman, standing a little behind him, still clutching the young girl by the shoulder. "He's a dead ringer for Daryl, don't y'think?"

She gave a brief nod and he turned back to face the brothers, shrugging apologetically at Murphy. "Guess I was wrong, though. Y'don't sound that much like Daryl, now that I think more on it. He doesn't talk like that."

"Talk like what?" Murphy demanded, suddenly defensive.

"I just meant about your accent, is all." He reassured him. "Where are you guys from, anyway?" He added, with a frown. "No offence meant, but you don't really seem like you're from around here."

"S'cause we're not." Connor told him. "We're from Ireland, originally. Though we moved t'Boston couple years back...before all this shit happened..."

"Boston? That's pretty far from here. Why'd you come this far south?"

"We heard there was a military camp or somethin' in Atlanta. Only thing is, by the time we got here it had got overrun...or so tha' guy on the radio told us."

The Hispanic frowned. "You heard someone on the radio?"

"Not on an official station or nothin'. We found some abandoned police cruiser by t'road an' managed t'pick up a signal from some campsite nearby. There was some cop...can't remember his name. Something like Welsh?" He turned to Murphy for confirmation, who just shrugged unhelpfully. "Anyway, he was t'one tha' told us Atlanta was done. But he said he was part of some group at this quarry place; that we could go stay with them. Only, by the time we got there, they'd all left..."

The other man looked thoughtful. "This...quarry you're talking about. Was it at Rockdale by any chance?"

"Rockdale...aye, now y'mention it; think tha' _was_ the place. D'you know it?"

"Yeah. Me and my family...we just came from there."

"Yer kidding me?" Connor said. "You were part of tha' group?"

He nodded. "That cop you were talking about? 'Welsh?' You must be talking about Shane Walsh. He was with us too."

"Hang on a fuckin' second!" Murphy interrupted, "Tha' cop told us that the quarry y'were at was safe. What t'hell happened that made y'leave? And where's t'rest of the group? There was s'posed t'be somethin' like fifteen of you, righ'?"

The Hispanic sighed heavily. "There _was _more of us. But a couple nights ago, our camp got attacked by walkers. We uh...we lost a lot of people that night."

"Jesus Christ..." Connor muttered.

"So, wait. Was that why there was tha' pile of bodies y'burned? S'that what you do with yer dead ones? Cremate 'em?" The younger twin asked.

"The ones that were walkers, yeah. Our people we...we gave them decent burials. Or as decent as we could manage."

"Aye, that makes sense..."

"After that happened though, it was pretty obvious we couldn't stay at the quarry anymore. So, this new guy that just arrived a couple days ago, Rick; he comes up with this bright idea of going to the CDC in Atlanta t'see if they've found a cure for this disease or whatever it is that's turning people into walkers."

Connor's mind was cast back to the sign they'd found on the door of the red car: _'Going to CDC. This area not safe.'_

"What's the CDC?" Murphy asked.

"Centre for Disease Control. He thought they might find something useful there, but...to be honest I thought it was too big a risk to go back to the city. To me, that just seemed like a dead end and I didn't want to put my family at that sort of risk. So we opted out. Split from the rest of them. Haven't really heard from anyone since then."

"Y'think their still alive?" Connor asked tentatively.

He shrugged. "If I'm being totally honest? It's doubtful."

The younger brother snorted. "Don't fuckin' believe this..." he said.

"Murph..." Connor warned.

"Why is it tha' _every fuckin' time _we seem t'be getting somewhere, something _always _goes wrong?"

"Just stop alrigh'? I'm tired too."

He shook his head, his face darkened with rage. "M'telling you, Connor. _Someone _up there is fuckin' laughing at us." He scowled up at the sky.

"Don't say things like that. God's on _our _side."

"Aye? Well it sure don't fuckin feel like it..."

"I take it you guys haven't been having much luck as of late?" The other man said tentatively, after an awkward pause.

"Y'can fuckin' say that again." Murphy muttered.

"Tha' camp at Rockdale was t'first we'd heard from anyone in a long time, an' then when we got there an' everyone was already gone...We jus'...we don't have anywhere else to go." Connor explained.

The other man looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well...before all the talk about the CDC, the plan was to head to Fort Benning if anything went wrong."

The younger twin perked up slightly at this. "Fort Benning?" he repeated. "What's that?"

"Military encampment. S'just South of Columbus. They said they had weapons there. Food. Shelter. It's supposed to be safe."

Murphy scoffed. "_Supposed _to be..."

"Might be a long shot, but s'all we've got right now!" Connor snapped. "Don't see you comin' up with anythin' better."

He scowled, but didn't say anymore. The older brother turned back to the Hispanic man.

"Where 'bout is this Fort Benning?" He asked.

"Uh...I'd say just over a hundred miles, from here."

"...You serious?"

"_Well. _That's just _fuckin' _perfect!" Murphy snarled.

"Our car's just about outta gas. We're literally running on empty." Connor said quickly. "There's _no way_ we're gonna be able t'get there in time."

The man shrugged. "I'm sorry, man. I can't help you with that."

He glanced behind him at the car parked in the ditch by the side of the lane. "Don't suppose...y'got any fuel y'could spare?" he asked hesitantly.

The man quickly shook his head. "I'm sorry." He said. "But I can't help you there."

"Why t'fuck not?" Murphy demanded angrily.

"_Murph_! Fuckin' shut it."

"I'm sorry, alright? But we've only got half a tank left and that's barely enough to get us to Birmingham as it is."

"Birmingham? That where yer headed?" Connor said.

He nodded. "We got family there. I thought it was a better option than going with the others back to Atlanta...I mean, don't get me wrong. I really would like to help you guys. You seem like genuinely decent people and I've got nothing against you. But there's literally _nothing _I can do to help-"

"S'fine. S'alright..." Connor interrupted, trying to reassure him. "M'sorry t'have asked. We'll be alright. Really." He sighed. "Maybe we'll be able t'find a gas station or somethin' nearby..."

Murphy snorted but, on seeing the dirty look his twin gave him, quickly decided against saying anything more; instead he turned on his heel and stormed back towards the main road. Connor watched him go before turning back to the Hispanic man.

"Sorry 'bout him...he's jus'...he's not been himself since this whole thing started..."

"Yeah, s'fine. Don't worry about it."

"Righ'..." he glanced behind him, moving back a few steps. "I'd uh...better be off then."

"You gonna be able to find Fort Benning alright?"

"Aye, sure. We...we've got a map. We'll work somethin' out."

Before he could completely turn away, the man added, almost as an afterthought: "Didn't actually catch your name."

"Oh, righ'...M'Connor. Connor McManus."

"Morales." He replied; hesitating momentarily, before going on. "Listen, uh...just, watch your back, ok? The walkers, they might not seem like that they're too much to handle, especially when they're on their own...but you get stuck with a large group of 'em and their hungry..."

"Aye, I get that. They're dangerous."

He nodded. "Right. You and your brother...take care, alright?"

The older twin smiled faintly. "Aye, you too." He said, before he turned and made his way back up to the main road, where his brother was waiting for him.

* * *

**AN: Sorry if this chapter wasn't so interesting :/ But as I've started this story roughly at the beginning of Season One of WD, I wanted to touch on some of the first couple of episodes. Fortunately, there should be more going on in the next chapter, since I'll be starting on some stuff from Season Two, so you'll be gradually seeing more of the Atlanta group in the coming chapters! :D**

**To quote Rocco: "You start gettin' excited mother fucker!"**

**Heh.**

**In all seriousness, I can't thank you all enough for all the wonderful reviews and positive feedback I've been getting so far. It really makes my day seeing that people are enjoying the story. Hopefully, the next update will be sooner :)**

**Till next time x**


	8. Found

They never made it to Fort Benning.

Not that either of them had really been expecting to anyway. It couldn't have been more than an hour or so after they had parted ways with Morales and his family, when the fuel tank had finally ran out. They'd been driving along some dirt track in the middle of a heavily wooded area; trees lined the road on either side and they hadn't seen any signs of civilisation for what felt like a very long time.

Abruptly, there was a shrill metallic rattle from under the hood as the engine failed and the car had quickly rolled to a stop in the middle of the street. It had taken Murphy a few seconds to process what had happened, before he let out an enraged scream and slamming his fist down on the dashboard. The noise woke Connor, who had been dozing peacefully in the passenger seat. He jerked upright, his mind still foggy from sleep.

"Murph, what's goin' on?" he mumbled groggily. "What're you-"

"We're _dead_, Connor! We're completely _fucked_!"

He blinked, struggling to focus. "What d'you mean?"

"We're outta fuel! The car's fuckin' done!"

"You serious?" Connor asked, fully awake now.

"_Yes_, I'm fuckin' serious!" Murphy snapped viciously, pressing his palms against his eyes; his voice suddenly thick with emotion. "I knew it..." He mumbled, after an uncomfortable pause. "I _fuckin' knew _something like this would happen."

"What're you talking about?"

"I never fuckin' wanted to come here, alrigh'? I always thought t'was a bad idea from t'start. But y'were so sure of yourself and I didn't want t'argue so I did the stupid fuckin' thing an' ignored m'gut instinct and now we're up shit creek without a fuckin' paddle!"

"Murph..."

"Steve was right. 'Bout _everything_. We should've taken him up on his offer and went with him an' the others t'New Brunswick when we had the chance."

"Murph."

The younger brother ignored his twin, continuing relentlessly on his verbal rampage; his voice rising steadily as he became more and more riled up.

"We should've never fuckin' come t'Atlanta in the first place! If I hadn't been pissin' about with the radio we wouldn't've heard t'broadcast an' we wouldn't be where we're at now! We've got no food, no fuckin' car, nowhere to-"

"_Murph_!" Connor hissed.

Murphy's temper flared as he whirled round to face his brother. But his twin wouldn't meet his gaze. He was staring up at the rear view mirror above his head, his blue eyes wide with horror. The younger McManus felt himself go cold as he followed his gaze. Though at first he could see nothing out of the ordinary in the reflection of the road behind them, there was a sudden flicker of movement by the side of the track, that caught his attention. He craned his neck and spotted a strange figure stumbling out from between the trees. With a sinking feeling of dread, he turned to glance out the back window of the vehicle.

A man, wearing a sodden, blood-streaked police uniform was staggering across the road behind them on what looked like a severely broken leg. A walker, undoubtedly. And unfortunately for the twins, he wasn't alone. Murphy counted at least six or seven others; wandering aimlessly along the empty road, emerging from the darkness from between the trees. Their dull, colourless eyes were wide and unfocused; gazing at nothing in particular. Although it seemed like none of the walking corpses appeared to have actually notice the Chevy, both brothers were all to aware that could change at any second.

Murphy tore his gaze away from the group of walkers, sliding further down in his seat; trying unsuccessfully to disappear.

"Oh _shit_." He whispered. "_Fuck me_!"

Connor remained silent; continuing to stare blankly up at the rear view mirror above his head.

"Connor! What t'fuck are we gonna do?" The younger twin said desperately.

"We're gonna have t'get outta the car." He said quietly, his expression grim. "We're gonna get out and we're gonna _run_."

"Y'can't be fuckin' serious?" Murphy hissed. "We're not gettin' outta t'car!"

"An' what's gonna happen if we stay here? F'any of those things gets any closer and sees us we'll be trapped in here. We go outside an' we might be able t'lose 'em in the woods."

"But wha' if there's more of them out there. Ones that we can't see?"

"We'll have to take tha' chance. They might be dangerous, 'specially since there's more of 'em than us, but we're still faster than they are. We can still outrun 'em."

"For how long?" Murphy said bitterly, but Connor pretended not to hear. The younger brother glanced at his twin; shaking his head, appalled. "This is t'worst fuckin' idea y'ever came up with." He muttered.

"Aye, but s'all we got!" Connor snapped, reaching for the door handle. "Y'ready t'go?"

Murphy had paled considerably and looked more than a little reluctant at the thought of leaving the vehicle, but knowing he had little alternative, he nodded. They both turned simultaneously and shoved open the doors, scrambling to get out of the car. As his feet hit the ground, Murphy heard an angry snarl from behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see a woman with tangled blonde hair and a missing arm, staggering towards him; reaching out with a gnarled, blood soaked hand.

"This way!" Connor yelled, grabbing on to his shoulder and giving him a shove to get him moving. The twins darted across the road as more of the group started turning in their direction; an uproar of animalistic growls following after them as they reached the tree line on the other side. Almost immediately after they'd left the road behind them, Connor quickly came to the realization that escaping into the woods might not have been the best idea. The trees didn't provide much in the way of cover, making it difficult for them to lose the horde. Even worse, the ground was littered with damp leaves, broken branches and roots bursting out from under the soil, meaning they were constantly tripping and stumbling over their own feet, which slowed them down considerably. They were still able to keep a fair distance ahead of the monsters relentlessly pursuing them, but they weren't as fast as they thought they would be and the gap was closing all the time.

Connor tried to ignore the burning in his lungs and he found himself struggling to draw breath. His legs were aching, even though he couldn't have been running for more than a few minutes. He glanced over his shoulder and was shocked to see that the walkers pursing them weren't more than ten or fifteen feet behind him. Despite the fact that many of them were staggering along on legs that were broken and mangled beyond all recognition, they were still somehow able to keep up.

He cried out in shock when his foot suddenly caught on an uprooted tree root and he was sent crashing to the ground, landing hard on his side. Pain flared up in his ankle as he tried desperately to untangle his foot; quickly becoming frantic when he happened to glance up and spot the walker in the blood soaked police uniform, ambling towards him.

"Murph!" he called over his shoulder. "Fuckin' _help me_!"

Murphy skidded to a halt and spun around, his eyes widening when they came to rest on his brother, and the figure of the walker swiftly advancing on him. He darted forward and grabbed a hold of his brothers hand, hauling back up on to his feet. They stumbled back as the man drew closer, snarling hungrily and snapping his blood-spattered teeth. Glancing down, Murphy caught sight of a rock the size of his fist, sitting half buried in the damp leaves. Without wasting any time, he bent and scooped it up off the ground, hurling it at the walkers head. The rock hit its target, hitting the mans left temple with a sickening _crack_. The walker stood, swaying for a second before it toppled over. Before the younger twin could celebrate his victory, another two of the monsters appeared, stepping over the fallen body and lurched towards them with outstretched arms.

"_Run_!" Connor yelled. Murphy didn't need to be told twice. He turned on his heel and bolted, half-dragging his twin after him. They ran on through the thickening undergrowth, trying to ignore the sounds of the walkers still following after them. As the minutes dragged on, Connor found himself struggling more and more to keep up with his brother, since with every step he took sharp, intense pain shot up his leg from his ankle and he had to fight to stop himself from crying out in agony. The last thing he wanted was for Murphy to know; they already had enough to worry about with the walkers chasing them.

What made it even worse, was that the pain in his foot was gradually slowing him down even further. His twin was already a good few feet ahead of him, and hadn't even noticed that he was starting to lag behind. He could hear the growls from the walkers at his back, now dangerously close and realized, with a sinking feeling of dread that there was no way he was going to be able to outrun them. Not for much longer. They were both already so exhausted and it was pretty apparent now that these things didn't tire easily. He clenched his teeth, suddenly furious with himself. It had been _his _idea to leave the car behind and go running off into the woods, and only now, when it was too late to doing anything about it, he realized that it had been the wrong call. A huge mistake.

A mistake that was now going to cost both of their lives.

He was suddenly hit with an overwhelming feeling devastation, which was abruptly pushed aside as another thought occurred to him.

Maybe...maybe they wouldn't _both _have to die...

He glanced up ahead, his gaze falling on Murphy who was still walking on ahead; completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He probably stood a better chance of making it out alive than he did; after all, he wasn't the one who was injured. Really, he was just going to be slowing him down now...

Connor took a slight step back, then another. He heard the snarls of the monsters behind him; the snap of branches under their broken feet as they stumbled closer to him. He braced himself, knowing the pain was going to be excruciating. But if it meant there would be even the slightest chance that his brother would be able to escape unharmed, he knew it would be worth the agony.

His attention was suddenly caught when something moved in his peripheral vision. There was a rustling of leaves and then in the next instant the small figure of a child came bursting out of the undergrowth, crashing right into Murphy, knocking him over. Connor charged forward, all thoughts of the walkers hounding them instantly forgotten. He reached his twin, who was still thrashing around and yelling his head off; stopping in his tracks as his gaze fell on the kid; a girl, he noticed now he was closer. She scrambled to her feet, stumbling back, away from him; her dark eyes wide with fear.

"Hey, s'alright!" Connor told her, holding out his hands, trying to placate her. "M'not gonna hurt you!"

Her gaze swept over his shoulder and she let out an ear-piercing scream of terror.

"_Connor_!" Murphy yelled. A second later, there was a snarl from directly behind him and a gnarled, bony hand landed on his shoulder, hauling him back. He spun around and swung a clenched fist at the walker grabbing him, only just managing to catch on the side of its jaw. The walker, a woman with long red hair, tore out in various places, turned around and launched herself at him again, growling furiously. He was only just able to hold her back from gnawing on him; her snapping teeth were hovering just inches from his nose.

"Get t'fuck away from m'brother!" Murphy bellowed, rushing to help his twin. He threw punch after punch at the woman's head, hurling obscenities as he did so. She half turned her heard to snarl at him, her grip slightly slackening on the older McManus's shoulder. Murphy saw his chance and, grabbing a hold of her arm, hauled the walker away from his brother; throwing her roughly to the ground before dealing a swift kick to her head.

"_Fuckin' bitch_!"

"Leave it, Murph!" Connor told him, glancing back fearfully at the remaining walkers who were advancing rapidly on them. "We gotta go!"

He turned to look at the young girl standing beside him, who was staring with wide horrified eyes at his brother while he continued to kick the shit out of the woman. He reached out, touching her shoulder to get her attention and she jumped, startled; drawing away from him at the contact.

"Listen, I know m'pretty much a stranger t'you," he began hastily, "An' yer scared an' y'got absolutely _no _reason to trust me but I swear neither me or m'brother are plannin' on hurtin' you. We're not like t'walkers. We're _not _the threat here. Y'understand?"

She hesitated for only a moment; tightening her grip on the small rag doll she clutched in her hands, before she gave a brief but reluctant nod. Connor could tell by the look on her face she was struggling to hold back tears. Knowing there wasn't really anything he could do to comfort her considering their situation, he turned to his younger twin, who was still insistently kicking the fallen walker, apparently oblivious to the approaching horde and grabbed his arm hauling him back.

"We gotta _go, _Murph! _Now!" _he said sternly and Murphy blinked, quickly coming to his senses. With a bewildered look in the girl's direction, he turned and broke into a run, the other following closely behind him; trying to ignore the bloodthirsty snarls of the walkers continuing to hound them.

* * *

It was only after an exhausting few hours of trekking through the quickly darkening woods, when the trio finally came to the realization that they were no longer being followed. The walkers must have lost interest in them at some point and the older McManus had a feeling it had something to do with the rotting deer carcass they'd passed while they'd been running for their lives. He couldn't say he wasn't thankful for the distraction; they'd had to move at a pretty fast pace to avoid the walking corpses and he had found it increasingly difficult to keep up because of the pain in his ankle. Every step he took felt like he was walking on knives and he was finding it harder to disguise his limp from his brother.

Not that Murphy was really paying attention anyway.

He insisted on marching ahead, even though there was no real reason for it anymore, as they were no longer being followed. The girl seemed to prefer his slower pace, as stuck by his side. Though she didn't seem all that keen to talk to him; all his attempts at conversation were mainly met with stubborn silence, or a slight nod or head shake, if he was lucky. He still didn't even know what her name was. He'd given up completely after a while and they had walked on; the only noise being the steady _thud thud _of Murphy's footsteps as he stormed ahead and the occasional twitter from a bird overhead.

It was only as the sun was dipping below the horizon and darkness was falling over the trees, when there was a sudden change. Connor had noticed that the trees had started to thin out gradually and he had been startled when his brother had abruptly shattered the silence by calling out for him.

"_Connor_! Y'got come see this!"

The older twin had shared a look of apprehension with the girl, before he followed the sound of Murphy's frantic calls. He ducked under a low hanging branch, holding it up so the girl could get through without it hitting her in the face, and found himself in what looked like a large clearing. Murphy was standing a little ahead of them, a shit-eating grin on his face. Looming behind him, was a very dilapidated looking old house. It's red rusted roof looked likely to collapse at any given moment and every window he could see had been completely boarded up and green vines had started creeping up the exterior walls and along the porch. It didn't look all that welcoming, to say in the least. But it was solid. And it was a hell of a lot more appealing than sleeping out in the woods.

"Great, isn't it?" Murphy boasted. "I just found us a place t'sleep for t'night!"

Connor found himself grinning for what felt like the first time in years. "Not fuckin' bad, Murph!" he called. His brother laughed and turned back to the house. Before the older twin could follow him, he heard something that made him stop in his tracks.

"I don't like it..."

He turned slowly to face the girl, who was staring up at the house with an expression akin to fear on her face. At first he couldn't actually believe it. The kid had actually spoken! For a while he'd been worried she might be mute...

"What did y'say?" he asked. She transferred her gaze to him.

"I don't like it." She repeated, her voice wobbling. "I don't want to go in there."

Connor frowned. "C'mon. S'not that bad. Would y'rather sleep out there?" he pointed behind her, at the line of trees bordering the woods. She glanced over her shoulder before turning back round to face him, nodding her head.

Connor laughed, light-heartedly. "Don't believe tha' for a second."

"But what if...what if there's walkers in there?" she asked insistently.

"There won't be. Trust me, don't think there's been anyone livin' there, probably since before even all this shit happened. We're gonna be fine." The girl wavered, still looking unsure. He sighed, feigning exasperation. "But if yer so set on sleepin' out under t'stars, m'not gonna stop you." He turned and started walking away, towards the house. "Just don't blame me if t'walkers come get you." He called over his shoulder. There was a brief pause, then:

"No, stop! Wait for me!"

He fought to hide his smile as she reappeared at his side, scowling and slightly out of breath. "Are you laughin' at me?" she demanded.

"'Course not."

Looking slightly doubtful, she followed him as he clambered up the house's porch steps, which were partly covered with moss. He reached the front door, which had been left wide open after Murphy had entered. He closed the door behind the girl, who gazed about the dim interior with dismay. The wallpaper adorning the walls was half stripped away in many places and the ceiling was covered in dark spots of mould. The wooden floorboards were covered in a thick layer of dust and Connor grimaced at the smell of rotting wood hanging in the air. He glanced to his right, where a wooden staircase led to the upper floor.

"Murph?" Connor called, moving to the bottom of the stairs. "Y'up there?"

"Aye!" Murphy abruptly reappeared, holding what looked like a pillow, tucked under his arm. "Found some old mattresses an' shit too. Might actually be able t'sleep on a proper bed tonight."

"Y'see any walkers up there?"

"Nope. None f'those fuckers in here."

Connor turned to face the girl, smiling reassuringly. "See? Told you there was nothin' t'worry about." She didn't reply, keeping her gaze firmly on the floor. His smile faded and he took a step forward, toward her. "Y'alright?"

She shook her head and when she glanced up he could tell just from her expression she was struggling to hold back her tears.

"Not really..." she said quietly.

"What's wrong?" he asked hesitantly.

"Nothing." She mumbled, after a pause.

Connor frowned. "Don't sound like nothin'."

She remained silent for a long moment. He sighed, eyeing her warily as she tugged her little rag doll out from her pocked and hugged it close to her chest. He still had no idea exactly where the kid had come from; she'd literally just popped up out of nowhere and near flattened his brother. What he wanted to know was how she'd ended up on her own. Surely, she must have _someone _looking after her? She couldn't possibly survived this long on her own.

As much as he wanted to find out more about the kid, but considering she still seemed pretty wary of him, he knew that interrogating her at a time like this, wouldn't be the best idea.

"Y'still haven't told me yer name." He said, breaking the uneasy silence. The girl glanced up at him, frowning slightly.

"You haven't told me _yours _either." She countered, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Aye, fair dos." He grinned. "M'name's Connor. An' you?"

She hesitated for a second, almost as if reluctant to answer the question.

"Sophia." She said eventually. "I-I'm Sophia..."


	9. Intruder

**AN: Before you begin reading, I'd just like to mention a few things, real quick. First things first, again; I'd like to apologize for taking SOOOOOoooooOooOooooOOOOOoo long to update, but I've been busy with school stuff. As much as I'd like to be able to update sooner, I gotta prioritize as you know. Just as a kinda forewarning, the next chapter might be a bit of a long wait too, not only cause, like I said, I gotta lot of schoolwork and shit to work on, but I also think it's gonna be a pretty fuckin' long chapter, with a lot going on. Which I guess, could be something to look forward to? :)**

**And lastly, I'd like to say a HUGE thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. I mean, Jesus H. Christ, I'm one away from a hundred right now, and there's only eight chapters :O WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON?! ASDIOASDIJASOIDJ! Seriously though, hugs and kisses and cakes and much love for all ya'll! **

* * *

Sophia sat motionless on the thin mattress laid out on the bare wooden floor; staring up at the darkening sky through the tiny window on the opposite wall. She was still clutching the little rag doll in both hands, clinging on to the thing as if her very life depended on it. Connor stood just outside the open doorway, watching her closely. Aside from her name, he still didn't really know much about the kid, and she still didn't seem too keen to talk to him.

There was a muffled curse followed by a startlingly loud smash from downstairs, making him flinch. Sophia jumped almost out of her skin at the sudden noise, causing her doll to fly out of her hands. As she scrambled up from her seat to retrieve it, Connor left the room and entered the small hallway beyond, turning the corner and peering down the wooden staircase leading to the floor below.

There was no sign of his twin.

"Murph?" he called, a little cautiously. "Y'alright?"

After a moment of silence there was the sound of footsteps clomping on the floorboards and the younger McManus appeared at the foot of the stairs, barely visible in the gloom.

"Aye, m'fine." He replied sheepishly. "Just..dropped something."

"Righ'...don't s'pose you found anythin' useful down there?"

"Actually..." he twisted round, digging into the pocket of his borrowed coat and tugging out a small box. "Found some matches in a cupboard in t'other room. If I can find some candles or somethin' we should be fuckin' laughing."

"Aye, just s'long as y'find somethin' soon!" Connor called after his twin, as he disappeared again. "S'getting dark pretty quick."

When he didn't receive a reply he sighed and turned back to the open doorway, having to feel his way along the wall part of the way since it was practically too dark to see anything. There wasn't much natural light inside the house, considering almost all the windows were boarded up. He came to an abrupt halt at the open doorway when he heard a soft sob from inside the room. He stayed frozen for a long moment, before he leaned over and peered around the door frame.

Sophia was curled up on the bare wooden floorboards, her hands covering her eyes, obscuring her face from view; her shoulders shaking as she cried. Connor stayed where he was, not daring to approach her. He'd never really had to deal with a crying child before and found himself at a complete loss for what to do. He glanced over his shoulder, debating whether or not he should go downstairs and get his brother, but quickly decided against it. It was pretty unlikely that Murphy would be any better at dealing with this than he would.

He steadied himself and took a hesitant step into the room. The kid's head abruptly shot up, her eyes immediately fixing on him. For a long moment the two stared each other down, neither speaking a word. Then Connor coughed awkwardly, clearing his throat.

"Uh...y'ok?" He asked uncomfortably. Sophia remained silent for a few seconds longer, before dropping her gaze to the floor.

"No..." she mumbled, "Not really."

"S'pose that's a bit of a stupid question." Connor admitted. "Mean, yer what, nine, ten years old?"

The girl scowled. "I'm _twelve_."

"Righ'...Well, m'sure s'not easy for you, where yer just a kid and yer out here all by yourself." She shrugged vaguely, fiddling with the hem of her doll's dress; avoiding looking up at him.

"What 'bout yer parents?" Connor persisted. "Mean, y'can't have been on yer own all this time. There must've been someone lookin' after you, surely?"

"I...I had my Mom..." she said quietly, "B-But we were in a big group with a lot of other people. W-We were on our way to Fort Benning when...when we had to stop 'cause our RV broke down."

"Really?" Connor perked up at that. "S'weird. Me an' m'brother were headin' that way when _our _car broke down."

The girl smiled faintly at that. "I don't think we could've gone any further anyway." She admitted. "The highway we were on was blocked off 'cause of all the cars people had left behind." Her face fell abruptly. "T-There were a lot of dead people in those cars..."

Connor was all too aware of the tremor in her voice and opted to change the subject before she started crying again.

"So where's yer Mom, and all these other people in yer group?" he asked tentatively. He quickly realized he had said the wrong thing, as the girl's lower lip trembled and she abruptly burst into tears.

"I-I don't know!" she sobbed. "I-I got chased off the road b-by some walkers a-and I got lost in th-the wood and c-couldn't find my way back and n-now I'm scared I might never see my M-Mom again." More tears streamed down her face unchecked and Connor felt his heart break a little for her.

"C'mon, don't cry." He said gently, kneeling down beside her. "M'sure it's not that bad. They can't be that far off an' it's not like they're gonna go anywhere without you. You'll find yer Ma again." He grinned. "Mean, y'found us, didn't you?"

Sophia sniffed, wiping away her tears with a trembling hand. "I-I guess so..." she said, beginning to brighten up. "S'pose D-Daryl could probably help us find the rest of the group. He's really good at tracking and stuff like that."

Connor frowned, suddenly confused. "Daryl?" he asked. "Who's Daryl?"

The girl looked up at him, scowling slightly."What're you talkin' about? He's _downstairs_, how can you not know who he is? Weren't you just talking to him a second ago?"

The older McManus froze as he suddenly found himself remembering the words of the Hispanic man they had crossed paths with just a few hours earlier.

'_Daryl? The hell're you doing here, man? I thought you went to the CDC with the others_?'

His gaze fell on Sophia, who was staring up at him skeptically She thought his brother was this 'Daryl' person, same as the other guy (Morales, if he remembered right) had. Could it be possible that they were from the same group? That maybe the survivors from the camp at Rockdale _hadn't _all died? The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

"What's wrong?" The girl asked him, abruptly bringing him out of his daze.

"I uh...I think you've made a mistake." He told her, not unkindly. "Tha' guy downstairs isn't called Daryl. He's _Murphy_. He's m'brother."

"He is?"

"Aye. Neither of us have even _heard _of this...Daryl person."

"Huh." Sophia frowned. "That's really weird..."

"How so?"

"'Cause...your brother Murphy looks...almost _exactly _like him..."

"Like who?"

Connor, having been so caught up in his conversation with the girl, had failed to notice the sound of his brothers footsteps clambering up the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder to see Murphy standing in the doorway. It was getting to the point it was so dark he could barely see his twins face in the gloom; only his blue eyes were visible and they were narrowed in scrutiny.

"I heard m'name mentioned." He said. "Were you talkin' about me jus' now?"

"No. 'Course not." Connor replied quickly; hastening to change the subject. "Did y'find anythin' else while you were down there? Any food?"

Murphy shook his head. "Nah. Mean there was stuff that _might've _been edible. Once. Think I found something that looked like a loaf of bread but it had so much green shit growing on it, t'probably wasn't safe t'eat it."

Sophia wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Gross!" she muttered disdainfully.

"Did find this though!" Murphy added in, holding up a small cylindrical object, Connor recognized as a candle. He raised an eyebrow.

"Jus' the _one_?"

"Fuck you!" His twin snapped. "Don't see you findin' anything useful!"

Connor laughed. "Take it easy! M'just fuckin' with you. For Christ's sake, don't be such a girl!"

"Hey!" He heard Sophia protest angrily.

"Shit. Sorry."

Murphy snorted and crossed the room, handing his brother the candle. "Here. You hold this, I'm gonna light a match."

Connor took the candle obediently, examining the streaks of wax running down its length. He wasn't able to see much detail considering the light was almost completely non-existent. It took Murphy a moment to fumble for a match in the darkness, then in the next instant there was a crack as the flame ignited, bursting into life. The older twin flinched, drawing away from the heat. Across frown him, Murphy was squinting in the sudden light that threw their shadows across the floor. Connor found his gaze falling on the fading bruise on his twins temple. Murphy blinked, meeting his brothers gaze for a second before he scowled.

"Don't jus' fuckin' stand there! Gimme t'candle! M'gonna burn m'fingers!"

He handed it over and Murphy lit it up, blowing out the flame; being careful not to extinguish the candle in the process. Though the light was weak and didn't really offer much in the way of visibility, it was still just enough to be make out their bleak surroundings. Connor turned around, gazing about the gloomy room in trepidation. It was pretty evident that no one had lived in this place for a long time, probably since before everything with the walkers had happened; considering the thick layer of dust that coated the floorboards and every visible piece of furniture. A wooden bed frame had been pushed up against the opposite wall its soiled mattress had been half pulled on to the floor. The other mattress, that Sophia had been sitting on was on the other side of the room, just underneath the window. The only other furniture in the room was the small side table tipped on its side and the large wardrobe, looming in the corner of the room. Aside from that, the place was pretty much empty.

Murphy, still clutching the candle precariously in one hand, crossed over to the small table and plucked it up, setting the candle down on its surface. Though it sat rather lopsided, it managed to stay upright. He sighed heavily, before turning to the wardrobe.

"What's behind door number two?" he joked, tugging open the door and peering inside, leaping back suddenly with a startled yell.

"Oh, _fuck me_!"

"What? What is it?" Connor asked, concerned for his brother.

"S'fuckin' _rats_!" Murphy exclaimed, disgusted. "S'fuckin' _loads_ of them in there!"

Sophia gave a cry of alarm, scampering across the room to hide behind Connor.

"Y'alright?" he asked her. She shook her head vigorously.

"I _hate _rats."

"Wait, wait! False alarm." Murphy said, taking a second look inside. "S'fine. They're dead."

The girl shrieked, clamping her hands over her eyes and turning to face the wall.

"Murph, for Christ's sake shut t'fuck up an' close t'door. Yer scaring the kid."

"Alrigh', alright! Keep yer fuckin' hair on!"

Ignoring the foul look his brother gave him, he kicked the wardrobe door shut and stretched his arms out above his head, yawning loudly.

"Fuckin' hell. M'exhausted." He exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder to address his twin. "What're we gonna do for sleepin' arrangements?"

Connor shrugged and turned to face the girl. "Where d'you wanna sleep?" he asked her, a little awkwardly.

She looked down at the thin mattress lying under the window. "I...I'll just go here." She said.

"Alrigh' then."

She sat down on the mattress clutching her rag doll to her chest, sighing sadly. The older brother glanced down at her bare arms, noticing she was shivering slightly.

"You cold?" he asked her.

"Yeah...A little." She admitted.

"Righ'." He nodded, tugging at the sleeve of the hooded sweatshirt he was wearing that Jess had given him; before pulling it off.

"Here." He leaned over and draped it over her shoulders, startling her. "Should keep y'warm."

She looked up at him in surprise. "T-Thank you..." she said softly.

"S'fine." He pulled down the hem of his white undershirt, adding: "You'll probably need it more than I will."

She pulled the shirt tighter around her shoulders and curled up into a little ball under her makeshift blanket; she was so small she almost disappeared altogether. He turned towards the other side of the room, where Murphy had kicked the mattress into place on the floor before collapsing on top of it, his back turned to him. He glanced once more around the room before bent over and extinguished the candle, plunging them all into darkness.

~X~X~X~

Murphy awoke with a start. He blinked, squinting in the dull light pouring in from the small window across the room. He felt completely disorientated and found himself struggling to make sense of his surroundings. As he slowly became more alert, the events of the day before.

The Chevy breaking down.

The walkers.

The girl.

He pulled himself up into a sitting position, groaning at the ache in his lower back. He supposed it was amazing he'd managed to get any sleep at all, considering how uncomfortable the mattress was. Then again, he'd been so exhausted he probably would've been able to fall asleep on the wooden floor.

He rubbed at his tired eyes, glancing across the room towards the window. From what he could see through the dirt-encrusted glass, it looked like the sky was just starting to brighten outside. His gaze dropped to the mattress lying underneath the window where the kid was sleeping. He could only just make out a clump of blonde hair poking out from underneath the navy blue hooded sweatshirt Connor had given her. It seemed pretty strange to him that a little kid like her had been running around in the woods all by herself. What the hell had happened to her parents? Were they dead? There was a large, selfish part of him that hoped not. Because if they were, the girl would become _their _responsibility. They were barely able to handle themselves, much less take care of a kid. She wouldn't stand much of a chance with them...

He was brought abruptly out of his thoughts by a sudden loud thud from somewhere downstairs. He jumped, startled; his gaze shifting to the open doorway on the other side of the room. He stayed absolutely still, listening intently. For a long moment, there was nothing but silence and he began to wonder if he'd imagined the noise. Then he heard it again. Another thump, louder this time. The muted sound of feet shuffling across the floorboards.

Someone was downstairs.

He stayed frozen for a second, before he leaned over to his twin, who was lying asleep next to him, and elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"_Connor_." he hissed. "Connor, wake up."

The older brother groaned and mumbled something incoherent, but made no attempt to actually get up. Murphy scowled and grabbed his shoulder, giving him a shake.

"_Connor_! Get t'fuck up!"

Connor opened his eyes groggily and turned round to glare at his twin.

"Murph, for _fuck's sake_, m'tryna sleep." He grumbled. "What t'fuck d'you want?"

"Somebody's downstairs."

It took a moment for Connor to process this and when he did he shot up so fast he almost head butted his brother in the jaw.

"Wha'? Are you fuckin' serious?" he said.

"'Course I'm fuckin' serious!" Murphy snapped. "I know what I-"

He jumped, abruptly falling silent as there was a sudden bang from the floor below, followed by a muffled growl; exchanging a look of dread with his twin as the noises continued.

"_Fuck_..."

"Y'think it's one of t'walkers?" Connor asked quietly.

"Sure as fuckin' hell _sounds _like one of 'em." His brother retorted.

"Aye..." Carefully, Connor clambered off the mattress and up on to his feet.

"What're y'doing?" Murphy asked.

"M'gonna go take a look downstairs."

"Are you fuckin' _crazy_?"

"Sh! Keep yer voice _down_!" Connor hissed. "S'fine. I'll be two minutes. You stay up here; keep an eye on t'girl."

"Like _fuck _I will. I'm comin' too."

"_No, _Murph. You're staying up here."

"Don't talk t'me like yer my fuckin' Ma." He sneered, but he stayed put on the mattress. Connor crossed the room, glancing towards Sophia, who appeared to still be fast asleep, before he passed through the open doorway and into the narrow hall beyond. The light dimmed, and then became brighter again as he turned the corner, reaching the small window that overlooked the plot of land at the back of the house. The morning sunlight streamed in through the grimy glass, shedding some light on to the staircase and the floor below, which was still shrouded in darkness. The older twin peered cautiously over the railing bordering the stairs, scanning through the gloom; almost immediately catching sight of the figure of a woman lurking in the far corner, her back to him. Her clothes, a pair of dark jeans and a maroon sweater, were blood soaked and filthy. It was plainly obvious, even from the back, that she was a walker.

More than that though, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something strangely familiar about her. His gaze fell on the woman's long red hair which hung lank and lifeless down her back. There were some hideous bald patches where her curls had been ripped out by a pair of grabbing hands. She froze suddenly, her thin shoulders stiffening and half turned in his direction. Connor managed to catch a glimpse of her face in profile just before he ducked out of sight again. He felt his heart slam against his ribs as the realization struck; he _had _seen her before. She was one of the group of walkers that had chased him and his brother off the road, the same one that had come extremely close to biting his nose off.

He had been certain that they hadn't been followed to the house...and yet there _she _was. She must have stumbled across the house purely by accident. And if she was able to do that, what about the others? What if more of them happened to find the house? For all he knew, there might already be more of them outside...

He shuddered at the thought and quickly turned away from the stairs, sneaking back along the hall. He reached the room and slipped back inside, carefully closing the door behind him and releasing a breath he was not aware he had been holding. He stayed silent for a long moment, facing the door; his back to the rest of the room.

"I-Is it one of them?"

He jumped, startled at the sudden noise and whirled round, surprised to see Sophia awake. She was sitting up on her mattress, her rag doll still clutched to her chest. The hooded sweatshirt he had given her to use as a blanket had been pushed aside, forgotten. He hesitated, unsure of how to answer her; his gaze drifting to his twin, who was leaning on the wooden bed frame on the other side of the room, looking at him expectantly.

"Aye..." he said quietly. "There's a walker downstairs. S'the same one from yesterday, y'know t'girl with the red hair..."

Sophia whimpered, clutching her doll tighter.

"Well, that's just fuckin' perfect, isn't it?" Murphy remarked. "What t'fuck're we gonna do now?"

Connor just shrugged helplessly. "Honestly? I don't know."

"Fuckin' _think _then. There must be somethin' we can do t'get outta here. D'you not think we could get downstairs and outside without it noticing us?"

The older twin scoffed, shaking his head. "S'unlikely. She's right next to the door an' we'd have to go past her t'get outta the building. There's no way she _wouldn't _see us. An' even if we did get past her without her catchin' at least one of us, she'd follow after us anyway..." He fell silent, thinking for a moment. "Think the only way we're gettin' out of here alive is if...we kill her."

"I thought our rule was no woman or children." Murphy said quietly.

"Don't think the same rule applies anymore." Connor replied, his expression grim.

Murphy sighed, glancing around the room. "Righ' okay." He said eventually. "So, forgetting 'bout the rules for a second, how exactly are we meant t'be able t'kill that thing downstairs when it's _already _dead? We can't kill somethin' when it's already dead, for Christ's sake!"

"You can..."

Connor glanced down at Sophia, unsure whether he'd heard her right.

"What did you say?" He asked.

"I...I said you _can _kill them." She repeated. "I've seen them get killed before."

"How?" Murphy demanded.

She remained silent for a long moment. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible.

"Y-You've gotta destroy the brain...Shoot 'em in the head. That's what we were told."

"So we shoot it in t'head, it dies?" Connor said. She nodded slowly.

"Fuckin' excellent." Murphy snorted. "We don't have a gun."

"Well...y'said we have to...destroy t'brain, right?" He asked the girl. She nodded again and he turned to his twin. "Might not have a gun, but s'pose there's more than one way t'skin a cat."

It took Murphy a moment to realize exactly what it was his brother was implying and when he did his face paled considerably.

"Yer saying we're gonna have t'bash her fuckin' skull in..."

"S'what it looks like, aye."

The younger twin pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself.

"Alrigh'..." he said eventually. "F'that's what it's come to...how t'fuck are we gonna do this?"

Connor stayed quiet, thinking hard, before he turned to Sophia. "We'll need something pretty sturdy. Like a baseball bat or somethin'?"

"Yeah."

"We don't have a fuckin' baseball bat." Murphy hissed. "There's nothin' up here."

The girl's gaze suddenly dropped to the floor at the younger twins feet and she frowned. "What about that thing?"

"What thing?" Murphy glanced down, quickly spotting the strange object lying just beside his left foot, half hidden under the bed frame and coated in a thick layer of dust. He leaned over and plucked it up, examining it carefully.

"The fuck is this?"

"Think its a lamp stand." Connor said, holding out his hand. "Give it here."

His twin passed it over obediently. Connor was surprised by how heavy the thing actually was. "Jesus. Must be brass or something'." He said. "Think this should work pretty well."

"Yeah, m'sure it'll do a great job of smashing in tha' thing's skull." Murphy muttered.

"Fuckin' shut up. M'not any happier about doin' this than you are." His brother snapped.

"How t'fuck're we gonna go about doin' this anyway?" Murphy asked, after an uncomfortable pause. "We just gonna...go down there, an' bash fuckin' brains in?"

"Well..." Connor hesitated, rapping his knuckles on the metal lamp stand thoughtfully. "We can't risk her seein' us and goin' for us before...before we get to her. She's jus' kinda hanging about down there. If she's not distracted somehow she'll notice us coming."

"Righ', so we need distract her." The younger twin said. "How?"

Connor shrugged, his gaze drifting around the room before finally falling on the wardrobe.

"Those things...they eat meat, don't they?" He said thoughtfully. Murphy screwed up his face at that, plagued by a sudden unpleasant memory of witnessing a group of walkers tearing into the stomach of some unfortunate inmate at Hoag.

"Some form of it, aye..." He said. "But what's that got t'do with anything?"

"Y'remember the rats y'found?"

The younger McManus glanced from the wardrobe to his brother, and back again; a long moment passing before the penny finally dropped.

"Connor, _no_! There's no fuckin' way m'touching those things."

"Murph, fuckin' grow up, alright." Connor snapped, "We can't jus' fucking ignore that thing downstairs. Sooner or later, we're gonna have t'deal with t'problem. You can either help me distract it or y'can bash its fuckin head in yourself. M'giving you the choice here, but yer doin' one or the other whether y'want to or not."

Murphy hesitated for a long moment, before he groaned and grudgingly got up from his seat, crossing over the room to the wardrobe. He tugged open the door and with a look of disgust reached in and gingerly picked up a rat carcass, holding it at arms length. Sophia gave a muffled squeal of horror and turned away burying her face in her hands.

"S'fuckin' _disgustin'._" Murphy grumbled.

Connor ignored him, turning to face the girl; who was still cowering away from his twin.

"Listen, we've gotta go deal with t'walker downstairs." he told her. "M'gonna need you t'stay up here where yer safe."

She peered up at him through her fingers, raising her head slightly, her eyes suddenly wide with panic. "Y-You're leaving me?" she said.

"No, 'course not. S'just...m'not gonna lie, s'probably gonna get a bit, well...messy, y'know? An' I don't think you should have t'see that. We'll come back up and get you jus' as soon as it's over."

"Ok..."

The older twin straightened up and glanced round at his brother who was still grimacing at the dead rat in his hand.

"Y'ready t'do this?" he asked. Murphy scowled at him, not gracing his question with an answer. He sighed.

"Take that as a yes...C'mon, let's get this over with."

Clutching the heavy lamp stand in one hand, he crossed the room and cautiously opened the bedroom door, peering out into the gloom of the hallway. Downstairs, he could still faintly hear the sound of the female walker clambering about downstairs. With his younger twin right behind him, he crept out of the room and along the narrow hall, turning the corner to face the wooden staircase leading to the darkness of the floor below. He peered over the railing, his gaze immediately falling on the figure of the red-haired walker, who it seemed had barely moved since he'd last seen her. He glanced back only once at his twin, who was staring intently at the woman, before he took a careful step down on to the stairs. The walker barely seemed to notice either of them, she was too busy burrowing through a hole in the floor. Connor took another few careful steps down the stairs, freezing when he reached the bottom and the wooden floorboard creaked loudly under his heel. He glanced up, sending Murphy, who was still hovering at the top of the stairs, clutching the dead rat, a look of desperation. The red haired woman clambered clumsily to her feet, beginning to turn round. Connor shrank back against the wall, still grasping the heavy lamp stand in his hand. Before she could turn completely around to face him, Murphy let out an angry yell, catching her attention. Her head snapped up and her lips pulled back from teeth as she growled at him.

The younger twin threw the rat over the railing, where it landed with a thump and the walker instantly fell eagerly on the dead animal, tearing into it. Connor edged forwards, trying his best to ignore the sounds of ripping flesh. His grip on his makeshift weapon tightened as he got to within a foot of the woman, close enough to smell the stench of rot on her. Almost as if she sense he was there, she turned her head slightly and he caught a glimpse of her face in profile. Long, vicious looking scars ran down her face from her cheekbone to her chin and her deathly pale skin contrasted sharply with the dull yellow of her eyes. For the briefest moment he felt a slight twinge of sadness at the realization that prior to the world going completely to shit, she wouldn't have been that much different from everybody else; just a normal person living a normal life. He got the feeling she might've actually been beautiful once...before all this had happened to her.

The moment of sentimentality quickly passed when her face contorted into a snarl, showing her bloodied teeth. He raised the lamp stand high and brought it down swiftly on her head. _Hard_.

There was a sickening crack as it connected and a subdued snarl as he swung the stand a second time. Then a third. As the woman's body fell forward with a loud thump Connor dropped his weapon with a loud clatter as it abruptly became too heavy for him to hold. He glanced down and immediately regretted doing so when he saw the mess of blood and bone splattered on the floor at his feet. He held his trembling hands out in front of him, surprised by the amount of blood covering his fingers.

He jumped at the loud sound of footsteps behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see Murphy leap down the last of the stairs and scurry across the hall, shoving open the door and disappearing outside. Connor remained where he was for the longest moment, unable to move for fear that he would completely collapse. His legs were shaking so much he doubted they would be able to hold his weight. He took a deep, shaky breath trying to block out the shrill ringing in his ears.

He was snapped abruptly back to reality by the sound of a voice from somewhere upstairs.

"C-Connor? Murphy? A-Are you still there?"

He quickly recognized Sophia's voice and felt overwhelmed with sudden panic as he heard the sound of her approaching the stairs. He glanced back to the body lying at his feet, knowing he couldn't allow her to see the carnage.

"Sophia, _don't_-" Was all he managed to get out; the rest of the sentence catching in his throat. The footsteps stopped and he could she was hovering just around the corner, out of sight. He coughed, taking another steadying breath before he spoke again. "Just stay where you are. I-I'm comin' back up."

Willing himself in to action, he crossed the hall without another look back at the woman's body, clambering up the stairs, with some difficulty, considering his legs were still trembling so much. He reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner to find Sophia standing awkwardly in the bedroom doorway. In one hand she was still clutching her precious doll; in the other, the hooded sweatshirt he'd given her. She handed it over to him without a word, her eyes widening when they fell on the blood smeared on his white shirt.

"M'not gonna lie t'you." He said quietly. "S'pretty fuckin' messy down there an' I think s'probably best f'you don't see it, alright?"

"Ok..."

"So, what I want you t'do for me is jus' keep yer eyes shut; I'll pick you up, an' take you outside away from all tha'...shit downstairs."

She took a deep breath and nodded her head, clutching her doll tighter as she screwed her eyes shut. Connor picked her up into his arm, surprised by how little she weighed. He turned and made his way cautiously downstairs, careful not to slip on the blood splattered all over the wooden floorboards. He made it to the front door and shoved it open, setting the girl down on the porch.

"Y'can open yer eyes now. S'all right."

She did so warily, peering about her surroundings curiously.

"Where's Dar- I mean, um...Murphy?" she asked. Connor shrugged.

"M'sure he's not far."

Sure enough, just a few seconds later, the younger McManus appeared from around the corner, wiping at the side of his mouth with his sleeve. Connor scowled.

"Have you been sick again?"

"_No_." Murphy snapped back. "'Course not."

The older twin managed a smile. "Y'looked you were in a bit've a hurry t'get outta there."

"Can y'blame me?" He shot back. "Was a fuckin' mess in there."

"Aye...s'pose." Connor said, his smile slipping a notch. Murphy eyed his brother carefully.

"Y'alright?" He asked.

"M'fine. Mean...s'not like I was happy doin'...that, but t'was either her or us, y'know? Didn't really have much of a choice in t'matter..."

He turned back to face the old house, his gaze falling on the closed front door, his mind not quite able to get rid of the image of what lay behind it. Even if it had meant that both his twin and the little girl were left unharmed, even if it was technically the right thing to do; he still doubted if he'd ever be able to forget the memory of that woman lying at his feet with her skull caved because of _him_...

So caught up as he was in his own thoughts, he didn't even notice Murphy approaching until he put his hand on his shoulder, making him jump.

"C'mon." He said gently. "Let's get away from this shit hole."


	10. Hope

**First things first: I'd like to apologise to anyone who's still reading this, if there_ is_ still anyone reading this. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. I'm sorry you've had to wait four months to read this piece of shit. I would've like to update a lot sooner but the reality is that I can't. I've been very busy the past few months with schoolwork and as much as I'd like to be able to blow it off and just keep right on writing this I can't. It's my last year at school and I simply can't afford to abandon my schoolwork since it's _so_ important I get good grades this year. So even though I am really sorry it's taken me this long to put up the new chapter, there's really not a lot I can do about it.**

**I'd like to say the next chapter will be up really soon. Or that I can start updating on a more regular basis now.  
**

**But I won't.**

**Because I _can't_.**

**I can't because I'm_ afraid_.**

**I'm afraid that the terrorists, who WANT WHAT WE HAVE, WHO WANNA DESTROY US!1**

**No, wait. That's the Governors speech. I'm doing this completely wrong.**

**TL;DR. Basically, I'm really sorry that it's taken me _so_ fucking long to update. I'm going to attempt to make an effort to update on a more regular basis, but as always school has to come first. Thanks so much for the continued support. Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews (well over 100 now WHAT IN JESUS CRUSTS NAME HOLY FUCK THANK U ALL SO MCUH ASDOJASDOIJ!) that are always immensely appreciated. And thanks so much for reading, even though I've been so shit at updating. Hopefully, the next chapter will be coming in _less_ than four months time.**

**Hope you enjoy the latest chapter.**

**Until next time ;)**

* * *

Connor stumbled for what must have been the fourth or fifth time as his foot caught on a tree root, causing a jolt of searing pain to shoot up his leg from his ankle. He clenched his jaw, swearing under his breath and Murphy, who had been walking a little ahead of him, suddenly stopped at the noise, turning round glancing to look at his twin quizzically.

"Y'alright?" he asked.

"M'fine." Connor replied tersely, through gritted teeth. Considering everything that had happened, he hadn't had that much of a chance to inspect the damage the fall had done to his foot. Judging from the pain, it would probably be swollen pretty badly, though he was just thankful it wasn't anything serious like a sprain or a broken bone. If he'd had the chance to rest his leg for maybe a day or two the pain would have probably eased off by now; but considering their current circumstances stopping for breaks wasn't really much of an option.

He started walking again, wincing at the fresh jolt of pain. Murphy's expression of confusion quickly turned to concern as he noticed his brother's limp.

"What t'hell happened t'yer leg?"

"Nothing." He said firmly.

"But yer limping! D'you want us t'stop? If it's hurtin' you y'need to rest-"

"I don't _need _anything. Told you, m'_fine_." Connor insisted fiercely. "I jus'...I tripped an' twisted m'ankle a little. S'not a big deal."

Murphy frowned, evidently all to aware his brother was lying through his teeth but he decided against saying anything more. It wasn't like Connor _enjoyed _keeping things from his twin, but he didn't see the point in adding to his worries. Trying his best to ignore the pain, he focused all his attention on the path ahead. They had been following the same crude dirt trail for a little over an hour and were still yet to find anything of help to them. Up ahead, Sophia had strayed slightly from the path, clambering atop a fallen tree and balancing along its length, arms stretched out either side of her like a gymnast; her rag doll still clutched tightly in one hand. As they fell quiet, he was certain he could hear her humming softly to herself. It seemed almost strange to him, the sudden change in the girl; when they'd first found her she'd been terrified out of her mind and had barely spoken a word to either of them and though now she still seemed strangely wary of Murphy, she seemed a lot more carefree than she had been before.

"What the hell're we gonna do about her, Connor?"

The older twin was abruptly brought out of his thoughts by his brothers' sudden question. He turned to face his twin, eyeing him quizzically.

"What d'you mean?" he asked.

Murphy hesitated, checking to make sure the girl was out of earshot before he continued on, somewhat reluctantly.

"I mean...what're we gonna do as far as, y'know...lookin' after her? Neither of us have ever really had any kids ourselves. We're considered fuckin' _serial killers _for Christ's sake. We're not exactly what most people would consider great father figures."

Connor snorted. "What's that gotta do with anything?"

"Well think about it. _We're _the ones that found her in t'woods. That makes her _our _responsibility. This'd be hard enough even _before _the whole fuckin' world when t'shit. Now we've got all these dead people wandering about to contend with. We've barely been able to take care of ourselves in all this, how the hell're we gonna manage with a _kid_?"

"Would you fuckin calm down? Yer giving me a fuckin' headache." Connor said, rolling his eyes. "S'just making a big deal outta nothing. We've got no reason t'worry. She's already got a mother; she told me herself!"

"She did?"

"Aye! S'not just her either; there's others. A whole group of them. I was thinkin' it sounded like she might be part of t'group that was from that quarry place...what's-it-called."

"Rockdale?"

"Aye, Rockdale. Mean, if y'think about it, all we really need t'do is get her back to that group, back with her own people. Then she wouldn't be our problem anymore, would she?"

Murphy stayed quiet for a long moment.

"But then...what if there's none of them left?" he asked cautiously.

Connor frowned. "What's that supposed t'mean?"

"I mean, what if..." he hesitated, lowering his voice a good fraction. "What if her Mom's dead? What if t'whole group's gone already?"

His twin turned on him suddenly at that, giving him a good slap on the arm. "Don't fuckin' _dare _say shit like that!" he hissed. "She might hear you." He glanced ahead towards the girl, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized she wasn't paying them the slightest bit of attention.

"But we have t'face facts, Connor." Murphy insisted. "Shit like tha' _could_ happen. So many people have already died. It's a fuckin' miracle that _we're _still alive."

The older twin glowered at him, obviously not wanting to hear anymore but Murphy persisted.

"M'just saying, alright? There's the possibility of something like that happening. Y'remember tha' Mexican guy we met on the road, right? He was from that group at the quarry. He was the one who told us their camp got attacked. And it could easily happen again. An' _if _it does and _if _the group is taken out, that's gonna leave us as the only ones t'look after her."

"Yer just over thinking things." Connor replied calmly. "Nothing like that's gonna happen. And it's not like we're completely incompetent, anyway. T'kid's fine with us. She's already a lot more comfortable around us than she was yesterday."

Murphy scoffed. "Aye, says _you_." He risked a glance in Sophia's direction. "She might be happy enough to talk t'you, but she fuckin' hates me."

"What're you talking about? For Christ's sake, Murph, she's barely known you five minutes, how could she _hate _you? She doesn't even know who you are."

"I _know_ that, alrigh'?" The younger brother snapped. "I've never seen t'kid before in my life. An' I know she doesn't know who I am. S'just...I can't explain it exactly...I just keep catching her giving me these _looks_...almost like she's scared of me. Like she's...I dunno, expecting me t'bite her head off or something."

"Yer being fuckin' ridiculous." Connor informed him.

"M'_not_. I'm telling you, Connor! She's got somethin' against me..."

He trailed off, almost guiltily as they drew alongside Sophia who was still perched slightly above them on the fallen tree. One hand was shielding her eyes from the rising sun as she stretched up on her toes, craning her neck in an effort to get a better look through the trees ahead of her.

"Y'alright?" Connor called up to her.

"I think I can see something up ahead." She replied, somewhat tentatively.

Murphy exchanged a worried glance with his twin. "S'not walkers is it?"

She shook her head. "Nope. It's a bunch of houses. There's a whole row of them. Up that hill a bit."

Connor clambered up on to the tree beside her in order to get a better look. Murphy remained where he was on the dirt path, glancing about nervously. Peering ahead, the older McManus was only just able to make out the top of the roofs of a long string of houses that stretched out for a good few hundred feet to their left. The buildings were half hidden behind a tall wooden fence, that seemed to be of a formidable height, even from this distance. Following the path they'd been sticking to with his eye, he noticed how it continued on for a little longer straight before veering off sharply to the right. If they'd kept following it they probably wouldn't even have noticed the buildings and the realization of this made him laugh a little.

"Nicely spotted." He said to Sophia. "Y'got a sharp eye. Don't know where we'd be without you, eh?"

She said nothing; just smiled faintly at him before she dropped back down on to the dirt trail beside Murphy.

"This is fuckin' brilliant." Connor announced brightly as he too clambered back down on to the path. "'Bout time our luck started to turn."

"Y'really sure this is such a good thing?" Murphy asked. "More houses mean more people an' from what I've seen the more people there are, the more chance there is of walkers."

"Don't be so fuckin' pessimistic." Connor chided him. "This _is _a good thing. We might be able t'find some food an' supplies from those houses."

"What? Yer suggesting we just go poking about in people's abandoned houses?"

"Aye, why t'fuck not? We need food, don't we?"

Murphy scowled. "I _know _we need t'eat Connor. But m'not sure it's a good idea t'go ransacking the place. What if there's walkers in there?"

"S'unlikely. We haven't come across any of them since we left t'house an' that was a good few hours ago. We'll probably be fine."

The younger McManus snorted reproachfully. "What good's 'probably.'" He muttered. "We're gonna end up getting ourselves _eaten _at this rate..."

Connor flinched at his twins words; just managing to catch sight of the anxious look that flitted across Sophia's face before she ducked her head, her short blonde hair falling over her face. He gave his twin a hard punch on the arm, shooting him a warning look before he turned to the girl, clearing his throat to get her attention.

"C'mon, let's get a move on."

The trio headed in the direction of the houses; Sophia leading in front with Connor following directly behind her, Murphy lagging behind a little, scuffing his toes in the dirt. They drew away from the path and into the trees, stumbling and tripping over the uneven ground, clambering up the somewhat slippery slope to reach the bottom of the fence which stretched out for some length on either side of them.

"Christ. S'taller than I first thought." Connor remarked, craning his neck up in an effort to get a better look at the houses beyond the fence, although due to the height of it, only a fraction of the roof was visible from his vantage point.

"There's a gate over there." Sophia pointed out, gesturing to the door a little to her left. Murphy moved past her and grabbed for the metal handle, giving it a hard tug. There was a rattle from the other side but it refused to open. He swore under his breath, kicking the wood in frustration before he turned to his twin.

"S'locked." He said.

"Well, that's fuckin' handy." Connor muttered sarcastically. He glanced back to the fence, frowning. "Looks like someone's gonna have t'go to the other side and open it from there."

He glanced down at Sophia, briefly considering the possibility of sending her over first, but then quickly dismissed the thought. It would be better, he decided, if she was let out of their sight as little as possible. He couldn't imagine she would be very happy about being over there by herself either. He glanced then to Murphy, the only other option, who scowled back at him.

"Don't fuckin' look at me like tha'. M'not going over there."

"You weigh less. It'll be easier." he argued back.

"That's a fuckin' lie!" Murphy snapped. "We weigh the same. _You_ fuckin' go over!"

"Stop being a bitch. I'll even give you a leg up, alright?" Connor held his cupped hands out to his twin, who glowered at him.

"Why t'fuck do I have to do it?"

"'Cause I'm older an' what I says goes. Now move yer arse!"

"Yer _not_ older." Murphy grumbled, but he obediently stepped up anyways, placing one foot on his brothers hands and pushing himself up with the other, kicking out with his feet and hitting his twin in the side of the head as he clambered inelegantly to the top of the fence. Connor ducked quickly out of the way before he could get hit again, cursing loudly.

"Would y'fucking watch what yer doing Murph?" he cried indignantly. "Y'almost took m'fucking eye out for Christ's sake!"

"Fuck you!" Murphy yelled back. From his viewpoint on the top of the wall, he glanced towards the house, getting a brief glimpse of the garden below before he abruptly lost his balance and toppled over to one side, landing hard on his back on the other side of the fence. He coughed, struggling to get his breath back as all the air had been knocked out of his lungs from the fall. With some effort, he managed to pull himself up into a sitting position, glancing about the empty garden surrounding him. The grass he was sitting in clearly hadn't been cut in a long time as it had grown to almost knee length and as he stood up he spotted an array of colourful plastic toys that had been left littered all over the place. There had obviously been children living here, at some point. He turned to look at the small house before him, his gaze falling on the wooden porch leading up to a set of glass screen doors displaying the inside of the house. Beyond the glass, the house was dark and gloomy; there didn't seem to be any sign of movement from within.

"Murph? Y'alright?"

The sound of his brother's concerned voice pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced back towards the fence.

"Aye. M'fine." He called back.

"Then get a fuckin' move on an' open the gate!"

Grumbling irritably to himself, the younger twin wandered over to the tall gate in the corner of the yard and undid the latch before shouldering the door open. Connor stood on the other side, Sophia hovering just by his elbow, eyeing him vigilantly.

"Took y'long enough." Connor remarked.

"Fuck off."

The older McManus rolled his eyes at his brother, leaning over to try and sneak a look over his shoulder at the garden beyond. "Anythin' of interest?"

Murphy shook his head. "Doesn't look like it. Place is abandoned." He felt an odd, icy prickle on the back of his neck and glanced over his shoulder, his gaze falling on the screen door again. For some reason he couldn't explain, he had been half expecting to see something staring back at him, but the house was still as silent and dark as ever.

Connor moved forward, passed him, towards the back porch of the house and Murphy's sense of unease only intensified.

"Maybe we can take a look around inside. See if we can find anythin' useful." Connor suggested, clearly unaffected by the dark atmosphere hanging around the house.

"Y'really think that's a good idea?" Murphy asked sceptically.

Connor turned to look at him from his point halfway up the porch steps, scowling. "What're you talking about?" he said. "We need to start looking somewhere for provisions. We haven't eaten any proper food in days an' this is probably the only place we're gonna get some from."

"I don't want to go in there..." Sophia said quietly.

"Why not?" Connor asked. "There's nothin' t'be scared of."

"There _is._" She said insistently.

"What're you talking about?"

Wordlessly, she pointed towards the screen door, a few feet from Connor. There was still no sign of life from inside, but as Murphy glanced down he quickly spotted mark of a bloody hand-print smeared on the glass.

"Oh." Connor said. "_Fuck_."

"Connor! Get down from there!" Murphy hissed desperately.

The older brother eased back a step and then another, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the door. Without warning, there was a sudden loud thud from inside and what sounded like a muffled groan. A second later, he could've sworn he saw something move inside in the darkness. Though he couldn't have been entirely sure as the instant he heard the noise he turned and leapt off the porch, shoving past his brother and hurtling down the garden path around the side of the house. Murphy bolted after him, closely followed by Sophia who glancing back, caught a glimpse of the glow of yellowed eyes staring hungrily after her as she hurried after the twins down the pathway. They made it to the front yard unscathed; Connor skidded to an unsteady stop struggling to catch his breath as his heart slammed against his ribs. He glanced back anxiously towards the house, which looked just as foreboding from the front, unable to quite dispel the feeling that he was being watched.

Murphy on the other hand turned his attention to the rest of the quiet street. It seemed to strange to him, seeing house upon house so quiet, so still, so devoid of life. At first glance, he could almost be fooled into thinking nothing had actually changed, that the world hadn't actually ended. Look a little closer, and it was a different story. There were still some signs here and there of the normalcy that used to reign; various colourful toys littered the empty lawns, bikes and skateboards left lying carelessly in the road and on the sidewalks, family cars, packed with food and other provisions all abandoned in various places, some with smashed windows, others with slashed or missing tires.

"Christ." Murphy exclaimed quietly. "S'like the place is a fuckin' ghost town."

Connor said nothing, eyeing the windows on the opposite street, watching for any signs of movement from the silent buildings surrounding them on all sides. There were no signs of any walkers that he could see, no corpses roaming the streets, but he was all too aware of the omnipresent threat. He glanced down at Sophia who was standing by his side, her doll clutched tightly to her chest, her gaze shifting constantly over everything. It was only too clear just how afraid she was.

"What're we gonna do?" Murphy asked, keeping his voice low. Connor turned to see both his twin and the girl were suddenly looking up at him, almost expectantly. For a moment he was unsure of how to answer his brother; he took a moment to think things over before finally voicing his thoughts.

"I think...it'd probably be best if we keep away from going into any buildings. 'Less we're sure it's safe or if the place looks empty. S'all very well we can see the street's are clear but there's only so much that we can see from outside."

"Fair enough." Murphy agreed.

"We should stick to the roads for now." Connor said. "We'll have a look around; see what we can see. I'll go up ahead; Murph you keep up the back, make sure nothin' sneaks up on as and Sophia can just stay in-between, but make sure y'keep yer eyes open and yell if y'see anything."

She nodded meekly.

"Keep yer eyes an' ears open an' only talk if you absolutely have to. We wanna make sure we hear something before _it _hears us."

With that, the trio headed up the empty street; keeping a close eye on the windows of the buildings surrounding them. Murphy felt uneasy still. For whatever reason, he had felt more at ease in the woods, than he was right now. He felt almost boxed in by all the dark buildings, like there wasn't an escape. He supposed it was sort of stupid to feel this way; considering there didn't seem to be any immediate danger. Each street of houses they passed looked pretty much the same to him; the same darkened windows and boarded up doors and there were still no signs of people anywhere.

After wandering down a fair share of empty suburban streets, that were evidently once bustling with life, the third or fourth street they entered provided a bit of a change of scenery. Instead of houses there was a variety of small chain stores, that looked to have sold clothes and toys and other nondescript things. There didn't seem to be anything of much use here. Connor guessed that wherever they were, it couldn't be that big of a town. Just glancing up and down the street they were currently standing on, he could see there really wasn't much to the place. The road to his left was blocked off partially by an overturned pick up truck and to the right, the buildings abruptly turned into trees and shrubbery a good hundred feet or so along the street as the road led back to the woods. He scanned over the small selection of shops on the opposite street; analyzing. Half of the stores looked to have already been broken in to, the windows smashed beyond repair. Not to mention the fact there could be anything lurking inside. And the stores that weren't already broken into were locked up tight, metal grates pulled down over the windows, metal protective gates closed over doors. He doubted they'd be able to find anything of much use here.

"What're you thinking?" Murphy asked him, abruptly bringing him out of his thoughts. Connor shrugged.

"Dunno. S'not lookin' that promising. Shouldn't think there's really all that much t'see here." His gaze fell on an a small Volkswagen that had collided with a lamppost. "Think we should try and find a car before anythin' else though. Mean, we can't keep walking; we're not getting anywhere fast."

Murphy chewed at his thumbnail, glancing about the deserted street warily. "What if we can't get a car that's working properly. All these ones look pretty fuckin' smashed up."

"There's gotta be something that's not completely hopeless. We'll work somethin' out."

"An' if we _do _find a car an' it's working, what're we gonna do for gas?" Murphy remarked. "Last think we need is for the car t'run out or break down in t'middle of a crowd of those fuckin' things, like the Chevy did."

Connor hesitated at that, falling silent as he considered the option. Sophia, who had kept relatively quiet up until this point, suddenly spoke up, pointing further down the street.

"There's a gas station just up there." She said, squinting slightly. "At least, I _think_ it's a gas station..."

Connor grinned. "Think y'might be right there." He said, turning to his brother. "S'pretty fuckin' convenient. Looks like our lucks beginning to turn, aye?"

The younger McManus didn't seem convinced. "F'you say so." He muttered.

The older twin rolled his eyes at his brother's insistent pessimism, ignoring the filthy look he shot him. He picked his way carefully down the street towards the gas station, followed closely by the others. As they drew nearer, it quickly became apparent there had been something of a small riot that had occurred towards the end. There were around five or six cars that had been left abandoned in and around the gas station, in various states of disrepair. Dried blood was splattered all over the concrete, but there was no sign of any bodies around. Probably because most of them had gotten back up and wandered off. Connor passed the few gas pumps that had been left untouched and headed for the opening to the small store adjoining the pay station. A metal grate had been pulled down over the door of the store, though not quite all the way. Connor reached over and hauled it back up, the loud clattering noise making Murphy wince. He glanced over the empty street behind him, his teeth set on edge. It seemed weird to him his brother had been preaching about them being careful to be quiet and here he was making enough noise to wake the dead.

Literally.

"Connor!" He hissed desperately. "Would y'fuckin' be quiet? _Hey_!"

He watched in abject horror as his twin ducked down under the metal grate and disappeared into the store without a second glance. He raced past the gas pumps and the motionless Sophia, who was hovering at a cautious distance from the store's front door. Murphy ducked down into the store after his brother, terrified in case there were walkers lurking inside the building waiting to attack them. But as he straightened up and glanced about, his eyes quickly adjusting to the gloom, there was no sign of any danger. The store interior was dim as the electricity had been cut and the overhead lights had been smashed out. There were only a total of three or four shelves, one of which had toppled over, littering the linoleum floor with various packets of foodstuffs. Shards of glass from the broken display window were scattered all over, crunching noisily underfoot. There was a clatter from the corner over one of the shelves and he jumped, startled.

"_Connor_." Murphy asked, suddenly guarded. "Where'd you go?"

He peered cautiously round one corner of the shelves, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when he spotted his brother standing in the middle of the aisles, a six pack clutched in one hand, kicking about with his foot in the rubble. He glanced up to see his twin standing there, a scowl fixed on his face.

"Think I saw a rat." He said, by way of explanation.

Murphy raised an eyebrow. "Thought y'said we weren't t'go into a building 'less we knew it was safe?" he grumbled irritably.

Connor shrugged dismissively. "I knew it was safe."

"_Bullshit_, you did!"

He grinned, unfazed by the younger twins temper. "Don't know what yer so fuckin' pissed about. This place's a fuckin' goldmine. Thought there would be nothin' left after all this time, but there's plenty t'keep us stocked up for a good while."

"Y'really think it's a good idea t'_steal_? Again?"

Connor gave him a withering look. "What're you so worried about? The whole fuckin' world's apparently ended, there's no law or government left, we've already been put in prison for first degree _murder_ an' you're fuckin' worrying about petty crime? Gimme a fuckin' break."

"Fuck off." Murphy replied. His gaze fell on the pack of cans he held in his hand. "What've you got there anyway?"

"S'energy drinks." He held them out. "Y'want one?"

"Energy drinks? Sure there's nothing better y'could find?"

"Well there wasn't any beer so..." Connor scoffed at his twins doubtful look. "Fine. I'll find y'some water then. Bitch."

Murphy scowled and snatched a can off him. "I never fuckin' said _no_. S'pose it's better than nothing...Did y'find any food?"

"Aye, there's still tons of shit left. S'mostly just snacks though." He moved past him, careful to avoid the shards of glass, and peered out of the partially shattered window into the street beyond. It was still relatively quiet outside, but there was something not right. His heart just about leapt into his throat at the abrupt realization that he couldn't see Sophia anywhere outside; without any signs or forewarning the girl had seemingly disappeared without a trace.

"Christ..._Murph_!" he hissed. "C'mere! _Quick_!"

His brother was at his side in an instant. "What? What is it?"

"It's t'kid! She's _gone_! I can't see her-"

"Oh _fuck_!"

"Hold this!" Connor thrust the canned drinks into his twins arms and bolted for the opening of the store, ducking under the grate and hurtling outside. He opened his mouth to yell out for her, but managed to stop himself before doing so, realizing he would only be alerting any walkers nearby to their position.

"_Sophia_!" he called through clenched teeth. There was no reply and he found himself struggling to keep his cool through the sudden onslaught of panic. He moved past the pumps and into the road beyond, abruptly catching spotting a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. He whirled round, half-expecting a walker, only to be faced with a rather startled looking Sophia, her doll clutched to her chest.

"_Jesus_!" Connor exclaimed, once he was able to get his breath back. "You just about scared the shit out of me, dissapearin' off like that! What t'hell were you thinking?"

She flinched at his raised voice, dropping her gaze sheepishly.

"I'm s-sorry." She mumbled.

He sighed. "Y'need to stay where we can see you, alright? Last thing we want is for you to end up getting yourself hurt. Why'd you wander off like that anyway?"

She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Well...I just...I thought I saw something."

"Saw what? Walkers?"

"No..."

"Then what?"

She glanced back over her shoulder, as if considering something before she reached forward and tugged on his wrist. "C'mon. I'll show you."

He followed her as she lead him further down the road, where she stopped beside a road sign illustrating the different routes up ahead. He squinted up at it, but none of the road names seemed familiar to him. Sophia was staring up at the sign herself, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"What is it that's so important, exactly?" He asked after a long moment.

"Well..." she began uncertainly. "I'm not _totally _sure...But I _think _that one," she pointed to one of the routes displayed on the sign, "Interstate 85, that looks kinda familiar to me. I think it's the same road we were on when we had to stop cause of the gridlock. I'm sure I saw a sign for it before we had to stop. Before the walkers..." she trailed off into silence.

Suddenly Connor clicked. "Y'mean to tell me y'think that's the place where you got separated from yer group?"

She nodded mutely.

He hesitated. "How..._sure_ are you that that's the same road?"

She stayed silent for a long moment, mulling it over. "Pretty sure."

"Right then. S'pose that should be the place to head to next. An' it says it's only bout ten fifteen miles away. We get a car, we'll be there in about twenty minutes or less. We could get y'back to yer Ma by the end of today."

She turned to face him then, her eyes wide. "Really? You mean it?"

"Aye, why not?" He grinned down at her, pleased he'd been able to lighten her spirits a little. "But we gotta get a working car first. Y'ready to head back now?"

She nodded. "Ok."

The pair turned and headed back for the gas station to find Murphy standing by the door, somewhat forlornly, still clutching the cans Connor had thrust upon him. He seemed relieved to see the, although his eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed Sophia.

"T'fuck happened?" he asked. "Where'd you run off to?"

The blonde girl avoided his gaze, falling quiet again. Connor took it upon himself to reply for her.

"There's this Interstate 85 up just up t'road from us. She says she thinks it's where she got separated from her group. Shouldn't think they'll go too far if they're missing her, so I'd say it's probably best we head there soon as we get a car working. We can meet up with the rest of them, get her back with her Ma."

Murphy frowned. "What's this Interstate 85 place? I thought we were meant t'be heading to Fort Benning."

"We can head there later." Connor told him. "We need t'get the girl back to her parents first."

"Well how we gonna get there without a car?"

"M'_working _on it, alright?"

The older McManus glanced about the gas station, his gaze wandering over the various stationary vehicles. At first he had been supremely hopeful they would be able to find something, but the closer he looked the more his spirits fell. One car had its windshield completely shattered, another was missing all its side windows, another was completely covered in blood on the inside, another was missing the radio (why someone would feel the need to steal a radio in the middle of the apocalypse, he'd never understand) another had slashed tires another had the hood popped and the engine had vanished. Just as he was beginning to despair, he abruptly spotted an old battered SUV sitting near the sidewalk. He approached it and saw with glee that all the windows and tires appeared intact. The driver door had been left wide open and as he peered inside it appeared that the inside was in pretty good shape too, aside from some dried blood splattered on the passenger seat. Even better, as he glanced toward the ignition he saw the keys were still dangling there, meaning he wouldn't have to go through the trouble of having to hot-wire the damn thing.

He reached over and turned the key in the ignition and with a loud stutter the engine rumbled to life. Connor whooped loudly with delight.

"Finally! Something's going our way for a change." He declared.

"Wouldn't celebrate just yet." Murphy said, peering over his twin's shoulder at the dashboard.

"What d'you mean?"

He reached over his shoulder, tapping his finger on the fuel gauge. "Tank's running on empty."

"Oh, for _fuck's sake_!" Connor groaned. "We can't catch a fuckin' break!"

"Maybe we can find something around here t'use?" Murphy suggested, glancing about.

"Aye. Could probably siphon some from t'other cars." Connor agreed, scratching at his neck thoughtfully. "We should get some food, keep it stored in t'car in case we get stuck anywhere and we won't have t'worry about starving." He turned to Sophia. "Could you start clearing out some of the shelves inside?" She glanced back anxiously towards the store, obviously reluctant. "There' s no walkers in there, we've been inside already. You'll be fine." He added. She nodded weakly and, shoving her doll into her pocket, crept over to the front door and ducked under the grate.

"Watch out for the glass. Y'don't wanna cut yourself." He called after her as she disappeared inside the store. Murphy watched the girl go before he turned to Connor, who was busying himself with inspecting the various jerry cans lying around for any left over fuel and generally paying little attention to his twin.

"Think I'm gonna go have a look around." He announced, scrutinizing the empty streets surrounding them.

"Eh?" Connor glanced up, frowning. "What t'hell for?"

"Y'know." He shrugged. "Just t'see f'there's anythin' else useful around."

"Y'can't go of on yer own for Christ's sake."

Murphy snorted. "'Course I can. Fuckin' watch me."

"_Murph_." Connor warned.

The younger McManus rolled his eyes at him in exasperation. "Fuckin' hell Connor...m'not a little kid. I'm a fuckin' adult, I know what I'm doing."

"I don't want you t'go off on yer own and end up getting gnawed on by of those fuckin' things."

"What d'you think I am, some kinda idiot?"

"You sure act like one."

"Shut t'fuck_ up_, Connor. I'm _not _stupid. I know to keep to the streets." He turned and started heading away from the station but his twin calling for him made him stop.

"Murph, would y'wait a fuckin' second-"

He half turned to scowl over his shoulder at his brother. "I'll be back in five minutes. M'not gonna wander too far, promise."

Connor sighed, defeated. "Just...be careful, alright?"

"Fine, you've made yer point, _Ma_." He sneered, before he wandered off across the street and down the road, without a second glance.

* * *

Though he probably wouldn't have admitted it out loud, Murphy supposed the main reason he wanted to get away was just for a bit of time with his own thoughts.

Connor had this weird habit of being able to get inside his head, almost like he could read his mind and right now he'd prefer him not to know how afraid he really was. Of everything that had happened. Of what was going to happen. More than that, he was terrified by the realization that he didn't know what was going to happen next. There were no rules anymore, no plans. He didn't have much hope that anything good was going to come of their plans to head for this Fort Benning place. He didn't think it sounded safe.

Then again, as Connor had rightly said, there wasn't really anywhere that was truly safe anymore...which only served to make him even more afraid. Were they to just keep running, for the rest of their lives. He wasn't sure he would be able to live like that, from day to day. It hardly seemed like living at all...

He aimed a frustrated kick at a discarded can lying in the gutter, sending it clattering noisily across the empty road. It sounded strangely loud in the unnerving quiet. Either side of the street, his distorted reflection in the shattered glass of the shop windows stared back at him, glowering; the darkness from within the buildings themselves seeming almost impenetrable. God only knew what could be lurking inside. He didn't dare step any closer to find out. In some windows there were signs of barriers that had been hurriedly put up to keep the monsters out; plywood boards haphazardly covered the windows, some with messages scrawled on them in marker: '_Alive Inside' _and _'Send Help_.'

But by the looks of things, no help had come.

Murphy shook his head in dismay. It was hard to believe everything could've gone so wrong so fast. He stumbled off the sidewalk into the empty road, glancing momentarily over his shoulder. He was still able to see the gas station just at the end of the street, but had lost sight of Connor. Up ahead, the street continued on for another hundred feet or so, then branched off into two or three sub-streets. The only cars still around were either smashed up or had crashed horribly. A jeep was lying on its side in the middle of the road and as he passed it, risking a glance at the ruined vehicle, he thought he saw a mangled hand protruding from the wreckage, bloody and gnarled. He quickly avoided his gaze, not wanting to dwell on the thought of who the hand belonged to.

To his right, the road split off into another side street, much like the one he was on now. There didn't seem to be anything all that remarkable about it. He sighed. Aside from the car there didn't seem to be much else of use in this backwater town, which was something of a disappointment to him.

He paused on the street corner, half-turning to head back to the gas station when something caught his eye a little further down the street. A small, bright blue street sign jutting out from the side of a dark bricked building towards the end of the street appeared to be the only splash of colour. There looked to be writing printed on the bottom of the sign in block white and as he peered closer he was able to make out the word '_Police_.'

Murphy frowned, puzzled as to why there was a police station in a town as small as this. It almost seemed very out of place, in a way. Then again...this could be just what they needed. A police station, even one as small as this, was bound to have an armory somewhere, with plenty of guns. And one of the things they needed most right then, aside from the car of course, was a way to defend themselves against the walkers. If he could get inside and find some weapons they wouldn't have to worry about being caught out unawares.

He continued on further down the street at a half-run, creeping closer to the police station and stopping at the foot of the stone steps leading up to the front door. The windows either side of the set of double doors were small and no attempt had been made to board them up. There didn't appear to be any sign of movement from inside. In fact, the place looked barely touched, all things considered.

With one last cautious glance around, Murphy clambered carefully up the steps and came to a halt at the door, suddenly hesitant, finding himself reluctant to enter. He knew it was ridiculous and the actual probability that there was anything in there was pretty small, but he was still struggling to work up the courage to open the door.

"C'mon." He muttered to himself. "Stop acting like such a little bitch and _open _it!"

He grasped the handle and before he had time to reconsider shoved at the door. There was a loud rattle from the keyhole, but nothing gave.

Locked. Fucking typical.

He cursed and aimed a hard kick at the door but aside from hurting his foot and creating a lot of unnecessary noise it didn't really do anything. The thing was solid and it wasn't going to open unless he was able to get it unlocked from the inside.

He turned towards the window slightly to his left after catching a sign of movement, but quickly realized it was only his reflection in the window. He took a cautious step closer, spotting a small hole in the glass where someone had smashed it. Being careful of the razor sharp shards of glass he reached inside carefully, feeling along for the latch. His knuckles banged up against some metal and he grasped desperately for it, tugging on the latch and quickly retracting his hand again, prising at the bottom of the window and trying to haul it up. He only managed to push it up about halfway before it got stuck and he swore again, his frustration getting the better of him.

Peering inside, he wasn't able to see much in the gloom. He thought he could make out what looked like a desk and some filing cabinets in the corner; an office of some sort, no doubt. He stepped back sizing up the overall width of the window and quickly realized just how pointless the whole attempt would be to try and get in that way. Even if he'd managed to get the window fully open, it was still too small for him to fit through.

He straightened up suddenly, another thought occurring to him.

Maybe he wouldn't be able to get into the station through the window... But he was willing to bet the kid would. She was only a little thing, she'd have no problem. With this in mind, he turned and flew down the stairs hurrying back up the street at a half-run.

* * *

Connor sat on the hard concrete ground, feeling fed up and dismal. He was having no luck at finding any gas for the SUV tank; almost every other car at the station was just as empty and he was fast running out of ideas on what to do next. If they couldn't get enough fuel for the car to work he didn't know what they would do. The idea of walking the distance to the interstate didn't seem very appealing either. It was more than likely to get dark before they reached it and he really didn't like the idea of being stuck on some empty country road in the pitch black with those monsters wandering around.

He sighed and leaned back on his haunches, rubbing at his temples. Since Murphy had left he'd developed a killer headache that wasn't helped any by Sophia's near constant chatter. After she'd helped him clear some of the aisles from the shop, he'd made the fatal error of giving her one of the energy drinks to quench her thirst, a mistake which he was really, _really_ regretting now.

She was currently occupying herself with doing laps around the SUV and nattering away to him at an almost breakneck speak.

"...and so I says to Taylor I says 'No you can't look at my homework because that's not fair cause I worked hard to get it done and it's not my fault that you were too lazy to do your own work' and then she was all mad like 'Why would you say that to me I thought we were meant to be best friends..."

It was just getting ridiculous now. He was slightly concerned, in all honesty. He didn't think she'd even taken a breath in the past five minutes.

"...and I was like 'No Taylor _Ashleigh_ is my best friend _not you'_ and it was just _stupid _that she'd even tried to _say _she was my best friend because I'd even _heard _her only days before talking about me behind my back and she'd been saying how she couldn't stand me..."

He sighed "Sophia...darlin'...could you-"

"So then she gives me this horrible look like she wants to murder me or something and I swear I heard her say something about me under her breath and then later that day she was sitting at the lunch table _giggling _and she kept looking my way and I _knew _she was saying stuff but I didn't speak up and say something and I really wish I had 'cause I really have to stop being so spineless and-"

"Sophia!"

She skidded to a halt, whirling round to face him, suddenly panicked.

"Huh? What?" she ploughed on without waiting for him to continue. "What is it? Is it walkers? Did you see something?"

"S'not _walkers_." He told her. "S'just...you need t'calm it down a bit, alrigh'?"

She scowled at him, propping one hand on her hip. "What's that s'posed to mean, huh?" she demanded.

"Yer too _loud _that's what it means. If there _was_ any walkers close by they're gonna hear you a mile off."

She folded her harms and huffed. "I'm _not _loud." She mumbled. Connor watched her as she unfolded her arms and reached in her pocket for her doll, pulling it out and picking at its woolen hair. He didn't miss the flicker of her hurt in her eyes and his resolve suddenly faltered. He glanced away momentarily, hastily trying to think of a way to change the subject.

"S'pose...there's one good thing about all this happening." He began, somewhat cautiously. "Least y'don't have to worry 'bout school anymore, eh?"

She glanced up at him, confusion flitting across her features at the sudden subject change, before she shrugged dismissively.

"I dunno...it's kinda weird." She said quietly. "I mean, at first I guess it _did _seem kinda cool we got some time of school. It was just like an extended holiday almost. But now I kinda almost wish I _could _go back to school. I really just want everything t'go back to how it was before."

"Aye, think that's probably what everyone's hoping for..."

She bent her head further down, her hair falling over her face as her voice became even smaller. "Sometimes...sometimes I end up thinking about the other people who went to my school. My teachers...Mr. Thomas...Ms. Collins...the other kids in my class. My friends. Even kids I didn't like all that much, like Taylor. I wonder what happened to them...if they're all ok...I-If they're even still..."

Her voice wobbled suddenly and for a moment he was afraid she might actually start crying again.

"Y'have a favourite subject?" he asked quickly, in an effort to distract her. "Y'know, when y'were at school?"

She sniffed, taking a moment to compose herself as she wiped at her damp eyes. "T-There was a lot of t-things I really _didn't _like." She said.

"Like what?"

"Algebra really sucked. And history was really boring." She pulled a face and he laughed at her disgusted expression. "But I kinda liked the language classes. At my school we got to choose which ones we wanted to take." She frowned, thinking aloud as she counted along on her fingers. "There was...Spanish, German...Latin, too but only the cleverer kids took that. I wasn't really any good at Spanish." She admitted, somewhat forlornly. "But I was one of the top of the class in French."

"That right?"

"Uh huh."

Connor smirked. "_Je peux aussi parler françois._"

She did a double take, staring at him as though he'd suddenly grown a second head. "You know French too?"

"_Oui je le fais. Quel âge avez-vous_?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Hold on, I know this! Uh..._J-J'ai..._" she hesitated, thinking hard, struggling to remember her lessons. "_J'ai douze années."_

Connor laughed. "_Très bien._"

She beamed back at him. "_Merci!_ How d'you know French?"

"S'not just me. M'brother speaks French too. Growing up our Ma insisted on us learning a few different languages. She thought it'd better our chances getting a job and everything."

"What else d'you know?"

"Well, let's see...There's French, German, Spanish...Russian. Italian."

"You really know all of that?"

"_Sí_."

"Then...could you teach me some? I'd love to be able to speak Russian."

"Aye, don't see why not. Wouldn't really recommend it m'self though. S'one of the trickier ones. You'd be better asking Murphy for that anyway. His Russian's bit better than mine. Same with Spanish. I beat him at Italian and French though...Speaking of Murphy," he clambered to his feet, glancing about distractedly. "He should've come back by now. Wonder what's taking him so long..."

Sophia glanced down at the empty jerry cans littered over the concrete, chewing nervously on her lip. "D'you...d'you think you're gonna be able to get the car working?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Not if we can't find any fuel. There's not a lot of a gas lying 'bout, that's for sure."

"Well...if we can't get it to work then what're we gonna do?"

"Dunno yet. We'll figure something out though. Don't y'worry about it."

She stayed silent for a long moment, fiddling with a lock of her hair.

"I just...I really wanna see my Mom again." She said quietly, almost more to herself than to him. "I'm scared in case something happens to her and-"

"Yer not gonna do yourself any favours thinking like that." He warned her. "We'll get y'back to your Ma. That's all you need to think about."

"I was thinking about what happened at our other camp..." she explained. "I mean, w-when the walkers attacked us..."

"I'm just sorry you had to see something like that." Connor said, thinking back on the horrific night he'd escape from Hoag...when he'd ran out into the front courtyard only to be confronted by the masses of dead bodies, the rivers of blood streaming across the concrete. No one should have to see that. Especially a kid like her. "Must've been horrible for you."

"It was...I was more scared than I'd ever been before. I-I really thought I might die that night..."

She fell silent and the older McManus kept quiet too, having momentarily run out of words.

"Still." He said. "Even though all this stuff's happened, there's still something to be thankful. Mean, you and yer family got out alright in the end, right?"

Sophia froze up slightly at that, something that didn't go unnoticed by him. "What is it?" he asked.

"Not all my family got out..." She said softly.

Connor could've sworn his heart stopped for a mere instant and he instantly regretted what he'd said.

"Who was it?" he dared to ask.

"My Dad. He...he got eaten."

For a moment he could only stare at the girl, whose eyes were stuck firmly on her shoes as she refused to meet his gaze.

"M'sorry." He managed to say after an uncomfortable pause. "Bout yer Dad."

"I'm not."

That, he hadn't been expecting.

"Wha'...what d'you mean exactly?"

She glanced up at him then, suddenly bolder. "I'm not sorry about my Dad dying. Not really. I don't really miss him." Her expression turned sombre. "D'you think...that makes me a bad person?"

It was his turn to look away at that. He took a long moment to consider the question. It was strange, the abrupt serious turn the conversation had taken and he couldn't even begin to think about how to handle it.

"Well..." he began a little guardedly. "I think I'd be more worried about what it is yer Dad had done that made y'not like him so much. Mean, God knows we've all got problems with our parents-" he hesitated, his thoughts suddenly turning to his own father and how he'd gone through half his life hating him, but quickly shook it aside as Sophia started talking again; she'd mumbled something under her breath he'd had difficulty hearing.

"What did y'say?" he asked.

"I-I..." she faltered. "He u-used to hit...my Mom sometimes...That's why I didn't like him."

Connor stared down at the girl. Of all the possibilities that had been running through his mind, that was the one thing he hadn't counted on. He knew next to nothing about the girl and then suddenly all this had come out of nowhere. And this was all the kind of thing that had been going on even before the entire world ended. How much had she had to endure? How many years of her short life had she spent witnessing her own mother being used as someone's punching bag. He felt sickened.

What kind of a man could put his own child, his own wife through that? He'd never even met this man, didn't even know his name but he could already tell he was the sort of bastard he would've been happy to a bullet through the skull of. Lost in his thoughts as he was, he failed to realize for a long moment that Sophia was still looking at him, still expectant of an answer.

"I think...people like that are better off dead." He said quietly, struggling to contain his immense anger. "I don't think you should have any reason to miss him."

She tilted her head to the side, regarding him curiously. "You think so?"

"Aye. I've got no respect for men who abuse their wives. Yer supposed to cherish t'woman you love, not using her as a fuckin' punching bag."

"I...guess..."

A sudden thought occurred to him and he turned to her, eyeing her carefully. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Yer Dad. He...never hit _you _did he?"

"No." She replied quickly.

Far too quickly.

He could see almost instantly the change in her; the way her voice abruptly changed, the flicker of some unreadable emotion in her eyes. She was lying. He clenched his fists, the feeling of rage suddenly intensifying tenfold. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, now there was _this_? This _fucker _hadn't only been hitting out at his wife, but his own _kid _too. He personally hoped the guy was rotting in hell, whoever he was. His fury must have shown clearly on his face as he noticed Sophia suddenly eased a step back, her expression uneasy. He quickly turned his face away; lest she thought his rage was aimed at her. There was a heavy silence, broken suddenly by the sound of approaching footsteps. He glanced up to see Murphy heading their way, out of breath. He breathed a sigh of relief to see his twin unharmed.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Connor demanded.

"I found something!" the younger brother exclaimed, still breathless. "Think...it's gonna help us out a lot."

"What is it?"

"There's...a police station. Jus' a little one. Right round the corner. Thought we might be able t'get something from the armory but the doors locked shut and I can't get in through the windows cause they're too small." He turned to Sophia who had been watching him warily. "Was thinking t'kid could probably get in through the window, unlock it from the inside, if yer up for it?"

She considered the question a moment before nodding her agreement.

"Y'sure the place is safe?" Connor asked doubtfully. "Doesn't sound like that good an idea t'me."

"M'telling you, s'fine. The place is solid. I just need someone t'nip in and get the door unlocked then get back out again. This is important Connor, there could be _guns _in there. We need something t'defend ourselves with right now, more than anything."

"S'pose you've got a point..." he admitted.

Murphy glanced down at the SUV quizzically. "How's the car coming along?"

"S'not."

"Right. You'd better keep working on that then. Me an' t'kid can go get the guns and shit an' then we'll come back round and meet you back here. C'mon." He gestured to Sophia to get moving and she hurriedly crammed her doll back into her pocket, following him as he made his way back to the road.

Connor felt a sudden twinge of dread go through him as he watched his twin crossing the empty road, the blonde girl reluctantly in tow.

"Wait!" he called after them. Murphy stopped where he was and turned round, peering at him from the other side of the street. "Y'sure it's a good idea for us t'split up?"

Murphy scoffed. "Would y'stop yer fuckin' worrying, Connor! We're just gonna be right round the corner; this'll only take five minutes, top and then we'll be right back."

With that he turned and continued on up the road. Within seconds, the pair had disappeared round the corner further up the street, leaving Connor completely on his own.

* * *

**Number One Rule In The Horror Genre:**

**Never, _ever _under any circumstances say: "I'll be right back."**

**Because you won't be back.**

**HAH.**

**JUST KIDDING.**

**_OR AM I?_**

**Chapter Eleven coming: NEVER BITCHES**

**Adios, mother fuckers xxxx ;)**


	11. Identity

**AN: OH WOW. A new chapter in just under two weeks?! PRRRRAISE BE! It's a miracle! What can I say, I've had some more time on my hands. ;) I wanted to get better at updating and I'm hoping this'll make up for the last wait. Teehee. **

**And a last note, since this has been asked for a bit: YES. WE ARE FINALLY GETTING SOME DIXON ACTION. **

**WOOooOOoOooOOoOOoOoooO**

**Lock up your daughters ya'll! The Dixons are in town. ;D**

**Ok. I'll stop now.**

**EN~JOY.**

* * *

Murphy came to an abrupt stop at the foot of the stairs, staring up at the doors of the police station. He'd been pretty confident about his plan to break into the building at first, but the more he dwelled on it, the more he began to realize it might not be such a good idea. He hadn't gotten a chance to get a proper look inside the place; he didn't know for sure how safe it really was.

Sophia stood silently by his side and he could see out of the corner of his eye how she was watching him closely through narrowed eyes. She hadn't spoken a single word to him since they'd left Connor behind at the gas station and he got the feeling she didn't like him very much, for whatever reason. He couldn't really understand her dislike for him. She didn't seem to have any problems with Connor; he'd seen them chatting as he'd come back up the road. But as soon as he'd reached them, she'd completely clammed up.

He sighed inwardly and clambered up the steps to the front doors, Sophia wavering a moment before she followed after him. He quickly located the broken window and stuck his hand inside, being careful to avoid the shards of glass. He hauled the window up with such force that the remaining glass shattered, raining down on him. He swore, leaping back and hastily brushing away the fragments on his sleeve. He heard a muffled giggle from behind him and whirled round to see Sophia, who was barely able to hide her mischievous grin.

Murphy raised an eyebrow. "Somethin' funny?" he demanded. She shook her head vigorously, the smile instantly wiped from her face. As if the silent treatment hadn't been bad enough already; now she was _laughing _at him...

He grumbled to himself, sweeping the residual glass of the sill and glanced inside the darkened office.

"Looks alrigh'." He remarked, turning to Sophia who peered past him into the gloomy room, looking doubtful.

"Are you _sure _there's nothing in there?" she asked.

"Aye, course m'sure." He lied. He was certain he caught her eyeing him again, no doubt all too aware he wasn't being entirely truthful. Even so, she took a steadying breath and ducked under his arm, clambering up on to the windowsill and jumping down into the room. There was a thud and she reappeared a moment later right beside him, glancing about warily.

"It's pretty dark in here..." she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly.

"S'fine." Murphy reassured her. "You jus' focus on getting t'front door unlocked. Through there, see?"

He pointed across the room towards the door and she turned around, picking her way carefully across the room. She held her hands out in front of her to help feel the way; bumping into the desk sitting in the middle of the room as she stumbled towards the door. Murphy found himself squinting, struggling to see her in the gloom. He took a step back from the window to let in more light, glancing over his shoulder to check the street behind him was still clear. When he turned back to the window, the room was empty and the door on the opposite wall had been left open. Looking closer, he was able to make out the words 'Sheriff Barkley' printed in black on the frosted glass window. He strained his ears, listening out for any sound of the girl, but could hear nothing.

"Hey, kid?" he hissed. "Talk to me. Y'alright?"

There was no answer.

"...Sophia? You ok?"

For a long moment there was only silence, then abruptly a loud clatter, hurried footsteps and a muffled shriek. His heart fell down to his feet and bounced back up again in the space of a few seconds. He leaned as far inside as he could but was still unable to see very much in the gloom. He called out for her again as loud as he dared, but didn't receive an answer. He was gripped by a sudden overwhelming sense of dread and guilt; he had no idea where the kid had gone to and if something awful had happened to her, as something undoubtedly had, he was completely at fault for it.

There was a loud thud from behind him and he leapt about a foot in the air, smacking his head on the window as he whirled round, coming face to face with Sophia. She was standing there, shaking, her face colourless. More disturbing than that was the blood spattered on her leg. For a long moment he could only stare at her in silence, horrified.

"Jesus _Christ_..." he spluttered. "What t'fuck happened?"

He stumbled forward, grabbing her by the shoulders and she flinched at the contact.

"What t'fuck happened?" he repeated.

She didn't reply, staying silent. His gaze fell on her bloodied leg and he forced himself to ask the one question he was terrified of having answered.

"Did something..._happen _t'you. Did you get hurt? Did...You didn't get _bit_, did you?"

Sophia still refused to speak up; she only shook her head numbly.

"You're _covered _in blood! What-"

"I-It's not m-mine..." she stammered, in a voice so small he had trouble hearing her.

"What?"

"There...there was a m-man in there. He...shot himself."

Murphy found himself struggling to process the information; he just stared at her, speechless. She started crying quietly.

"I-I saw...there was b-blood..._everywhere_. It was all over the f-floor and I...I-I slipped in it..."

"Where was that?" he asked. "The room y'were in was _empty._"

"It was in the _other_ room...across the hall. I-I saw his shadow...through the glass. I thought...maybe...there was someone alive."

Murphy took a step back, releasing his grip on her shoulders and glanced towards the doors behind her which had been left slightly ajar when she had exited the building. He stepped around the girl, pushing the door further open and peering inside. There wasn't much to the place, considering its size; just a wide corridor running the length of the building. Doors were placed at regular intervals along the walls, leading onto other rooms. He was already vaguely aware the front two were offices of some kind, but he was still unaware of what the other rooms contained. He could only hope one of them was an armory The lack of light meant he couldn't see much of anything. The corridor just led off into darkness. He hesitated in the doorway, before taking a cautious step forward, into the building.

"Don't!" Sophia protested, reaching forward and tugging on his arm to pull him back. "You _can't _go in there!"

He brushed her off, dismissively. "What're you so worried for?" he asked. "Nothing's in there, s'fine."

"I-I don't wanna go back in there. I _can't_!"

"Then y'don't have to. S'fine. _I'll _just go in."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Can't I just go back to the gas station? _Please_?"

"Not just yet. I need you t'stay where I can see you. We'll only be five minutes and then we can go back, alright?"

She still seemed more than a little unsure, but managed a timid nod. "Ok..."

He turned and reached forward, tugging open the second door, flooding the dim corridor with more light. He surveyed his gloomy surroundings with a certain amount of wariness.

"Where about did y'see..." he hesitated, "...Y'know."

She pointed with a still trembling hand toward the first door on the right. "It..._He _was in there..."

"Righ'...You stay here, at the front. Keep yer eye on the outside an' yell if you see anything, yeah?"

"Yeah..."

He turned away and moved cautiously over to the office door, which had been left hanging open. As he moved closer, he was abruptly hit with the intense, cloying stench of blood. He wrinkled his nose, covering his face with his sleeve in an effort to keep out the smell. Peering around the room, it became quickly apparent that it was another office, almost identical to the one on the others side of the hall. A number of steel filing cabinets had been shoved into the corner of the room and there were various framed photographs and credentials hung up on the back wall. The only furniture in the room was the large wooden desk placed in the center. Seated behind the desk was the figure of a man, dressed in what he assumed was police uniform. The room was pretty dim, but not so much that he wasn't able to make out the massive cavity that had been carved out of the back of his skull by the shotgun he clutched in his hands. The wall behind him was caked in blood and Murphy found himself recoiling from the sight of such carnage. With the work he and his twin had done, he'd already seen his own fair share of corpses, but even so _this _mess was pretty hard to stomach. He could hardly blame the kid for freaking out like she had...

He eased back a step, scanning the room one for anything useful and catching sight of something lying on the desk, only a few feet from the police officer. Looking closer he was able to identify the small object as a set of keys. He eyed the figure of the man seated behind the desk, wary he might come back to life and attack him, even though he knew it was ridiculous. There wasn't any reason for him to be afraid. He could tell by the sizable hole in the back of his head that there was no chance he was going to come back. Even so, he remained overtly cautious as he crept closer to the desk, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the dead man. In one swift movement he snatched up the keys and rapidly backed away from the desk. He was gripped by a sudden intense need to _get out _of that suffocating room, away from the overpowering stench of blood. He escaped out into the hallway and yanked the door closed behind him, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief. He glanced up to see Sophia was still hovering anxiously by the front doors.

"Can we go now?" she asked desperately.

"Not yet." Murphy replied. "We'll take a quick look around first, see if there's anything useful in here."

She shook her head. "I-I don't want to-"

"Y'don't have t'come into the rooms with me, alright? Just...stay close by. Where I can keep an eye on you."

She was clearly still reluctant, but she nodded in agreement; following behind him as he continued further into the gloomy building. With both front doors open, there was more light to see by, making the place seem a lot less eerie than it initially had. As well as the two front offices, there was a large comfortable looking lounge area, with a few vending machines (which Murphy proposed they could take from afterwards), an administrative center of sorts containing four or five desks placed in the middle of the room and computers with missing keyboards and shattered screens, as well as a janitorial closet that had nothing of any real value in it.

It was only when they reached the end of the hallway that the younger twin was able to find what he had been looking for. The last door on the right of the hallway was marked '_Armory' _and had a cautionary sign on it, reading: _'Danger: No entry for unauthorized persons.'_

"Bingo." Murphy said quietly, reaching for the keys he'd placed in his pocket. After fumbling with them for a few seconds he was able to find the right one and successfully unlocked the door. He shoved it open and carefully peered inside. The room was small, but despite its size, there was quite a substantial artillery. The entire left wall was stacked with shelves and shelves of pistols and handguns and rifles and an abundance of other lethal weapons. Murphy let out a low whistle.

"Christ." He remarked. "We hit t'fuckin' jackpot in here!"

"Uh huh..." Sophia said, a little uncertainly.

The younger McManus crossed over to one of the shelves, carefully pulling down a long rifle situated on one of the top shelves, inspecting it carefully before dropping it down on the large wooden table sitting in the middle of the room. Sophia jumped, startled by the sudden noise, but her unease went entirely unnoticed by Murphy who was crouched near the floor, busily examining a shelf of pistols. He picked one up, turning it over cautiously in his hands, checking the magazine before ramming it back in. This time he noticed the girl's flinch and turned to look at her, puzzled.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked her.

"No..." she looked away quickly, but he didn't miss the flicker of fear in her eyes when her gaze fell on the gun in his hands.

"You ever used one before?"

She glanced up. "Huh?"

"A gun?" he elaborated. "Y'know how to shoot?"

"No." She said, aghast. "I'm only _twelve_."

"So? Me an' m'brother were younger than that when we were first taken to a firing range with m'Uncle Seamus. Fuckin' crazy he was. Our Ma just about had a fit when she found out about it."

Sophia stayed quiet, thoughtful.

"Could teach you. F'you like." He offered. "T'shoot, I mean. S'probably useful to know, considering how the world's gone t'shit an' everything...An' y'got dead people wandering about..."

"No, thanks." She replied quietly.

"Fine. Suit yourself." He moved around to the other side of the room, towards a steel cupboard in the corner, opening the doors and rooting through the contents. Abruptly, Sophia turned to the corridor behind her, frowning. She could've sworn she heard the distinct rumble of a car engine. Glancing back to Murphy, to check he was still paying her no attention, she eased back a step, out of the doorway and into the hall. Taking a few cautious steps closer to the front doors, she was able to hear more clearly the sound of an idling car engine. She found herself grinning and very nearly laughed aloud in delight. Connor must have been able to get the car to work! He must've come round the corner to get them. Once they'd gotten the guns they could head for the interstate. She could see her Mom again!

She bolted down the corridor, skidding to a halt at the front doors. But when she peered out into the street beyond, she couldn't see any sign of Connor anywhere or the familiar SUV. Instead, in the opposite direction, on the other side of the road there was a rusted red pick up truck, parked by the sidewalk. A group of around five or six men were crowded around the vehicle, talking in hushed voices. Sophia stayed frozen in the doorway, watching the group from afar, warily. They didn't look at all familiar to her in any way. She thought she could detect an air of hostility surrounding the group; something about them made her instantly anxious, and not just because they were strangers to her. Connor and Murphy were strangers too, but they didn't scare her like these people did. She knew, somehow, that the brothers had no real intention to hurt her.

With those people across the street,something told her she couldn't be so sure.

"_Hey_!"

She jumped in fright at the sound of an angry shout; glancing up to see one of the men was suddenly pointing an accusatory finger at her.

"Mason! There's a fuckin' kid!"

Another member of the group, still standing by the car, looked up at the call, his gaze instantly falling on her and for a brief moment, his cold grey eyes locked on hers. Something she saw in his gaze, something she couldn't explain, terrified her. He gestured to two of the others and together the three of them broke away from the group and strode at a brisk pace across the road towards her.

She turned and fled back into the building, stumbling up the corridor. Murphy glanced up in surprise as she burst into the room, in a panic.

"What's wrong?" he said, straightening up. "What's happened-"

"We have to go!" she said breathlessly.

"What's going on? S'it walkers?"

She shook her head. "There's _people _outside. A group of them! I don't know who they are a-and I don't t-think they're gonna be friendly."

Murphy frowned, taken aback. He considered dismissing the girl's fears. After all, it did seem to him that she was overacting a little, but the real terror in her eyes made him stop. Every survivor he and his brother had come across, though they had been few and far between, had been decent people as far as he could tell. But he was all too aware of the kind of evil people were capable of and how much worse it could be now the world was lawless.

Before he could do or say anything, there was the sudden sound of approaching footsteps and a moment later a man appeared in the doorway. He looked to be around the same age as Murphy himself, give or take a few years, it was difficult to tell. He was relatively pale, with light hair and icy grey eyes that were narrowed slightly in scrutiny as they observed him. Something about him that he couldn't quite explain instantly put him on edge. He'd seen that same coldness, he realized, in the eyes of many of the murderous criminals he and his twin had put down. Sophia was right, he realized. Whoever these people were, they were bad news.

"Who the fuck're you?" the man demanded crudely.

Murphy scowled back at him. "Could ask you the same fuckin' question." He said.

The man stared at him a moment longer and then turned and called loudly over his shoulder. "Hey, Carlos! Tony! Get your asses in here!"

There were more footsteps and Sophia shrank back as two more men appeared in the doorway; a skinhead Latino with what appeared to be a permanent scowl on his face and a dark haired man who, paid little attention to Murphy and Sophia; immediately turning to the weapons lining the wall.

"Jesus Christ, Mason!" he said, grinning. "This place's a fuckin' goldmine!"

"Fuckin' called it." The Latino said. "Backwater towns like this're usually untouched."

"What _I _wanna know," the blonde man, Mason, said, gesturing to the younger McManus, "is how the hell _these two_ got in here."

The other men glanced towards the pair hovering in the corner, varying degrees of suspicion on their faces.

"How the hell _did _you get in here?" the brunette asked. "That front door's fuckin' _solid_."

"Came in through the window." Murphy replied, somewhat reluctantly. He gestured to Sophia, who remained by his side, surveying the other men warily. "She got t'door open from the inside."

"Ah." The blonde man said snidely. "I see how it is. You get your daughter to do your dirty work for you."

"She's _not_ my daughter." Murphy protested, but he might as well have not spoken at all.

The other man ignored him, continuing on relentlessly. "So, what brings you two to Oak Hill, anyway?"

His tone was conversational, but the younger McManus was sure he could detect a faint underlying hostility in his words.

"We...were lookin' for a car. And guns." he replied. "We don't have anythin' t'defend ourselves with and y'know, I don't really want t'get stuck in a crowd f'those fuckin'..._things_ without a way t'defend myself."

Mason laughed, but it sounded false. "Yeah, guess you've got a point there." His voice became suddenly harsher. "But I'm afraid you'll have to look elsewhere. This here's our spot."

Murphy could answer for a moment, too stunned. "S'cuse me?" he said, struggling to contain his irritation.

"These guns are ours. We were here first, that makes it ours."

"Funny." The younger McManus sneered. "I don't see your fuckin' name on 'em."

"We've been scavenging here for months now. This is _our _spot. We got a big group to take care of. What've you got? S'just you and your kid. There's no contest."

"Aye, we're a smaller group." Murphy said desperately. "That's _why_ we need it more."

The Latino shook his head. "Nah, man. Mason's right. We've needed a break like this for months. We're down to our last bullets."

"And we've got _nothing_."

He just shrugged. "Sorry, _hombre_. That ain't our problem."

"Shove it up yer arse!" Murphy snapped.

The other man scowled. "Hey, fuck you _puta_!"

"C'mon Carlos." Mason said, grinning slyly. "Who knows, maybe we can reach some sort of agreement here." He turned to Murphy. "Tell you what." He crossed over and picked up the pistol the McManus had been admiring earlier and placed it on the table. "I'm in a generous mood. You can have this and...another extra round. That outta be enough to take care of you and the girl, don't y'think?"

"An' what? You'll just take everything else for yourself?" the younger McManus said, seething. "I don't fuckin' think so!"

"What the hell're you gonna do 'bout it, man?" he sneered. "You gonna try and _stop _us?"

"Nah. I'll just take what I fuckin' want to. You're doing it, why can't I?"

"I already told you why, asshole. This stuff's ours."

"Fuck you."

Mason took a step closer, his expression suddenly thunderous and Murphy resisted the urge to move back, knowing it would only make him seem weaker. He met the other man's icy gaze, forcing himself not to look away, not to show the fear he was feeling. He knew picking a fight was a really, _really _bad idea at a time like this. He was ridiculously outnumbered.

_Where the hell was Connor?_

Surely he should've known something was wrong? Surely he should've come running by now.

Unless something had happened to him...

"You know what?" the blonde man snarled. "I think it'd be better for you and the girl if you leave. _Now_. Before I get really pissed off."

"Yeah? An' what happens then?" Murphy sneered.

The punch came seemingly out of nowhere.

He was struck on his cheekbone and he staggered back, hitting the wall hard. He clutched his cheek, glancing up in shock at the blonde man and his temper flared when he caught sight of the smug smirk on his face.

"You _fucker_!" he spat.

The smile was instantly replaced by a scowl and he grabbed for the younger McManus, catching the front of his shirt. Sophia let out a sudden cry of a terror and darted for the door. The blonde man abruptly released Murphy, shoving him away and reaching out as she raced past him, catching hold of the scruff of her neck and hauling her back.

"Where the fuck d'you think you're going?" he sneered. She sobbed in fright and tried desperately to pull away from him. In that second, something inside of Murphy snapped and his vision became tinted by red.

"Let her go." He snarled, in a voice that hardly sounded like his own. Mason turned to him.

"Or _what_?" he snapped.

Murphy lunged forward and there was a sickening crack as his forehead connected with the man's nose. Mason let out a yell of agony, clutching his nose as it spurted blood. He hardly had time to recover as the younger McManus was on him again in an instant, shoving him hard and forcing him to release his hold on Sophia, who stumbled and fell, dropping her rag doll. Mason lost his balance and toppled to the floor with a yell of rage, bringing Murphy down on top of him. The younger twin threw in as many punches as he could, before he was grabbed suddenly by the back of his shirt and shoved aside by the Latino. He landed hard on the concrete floor, the breath knocked out of him. He caught a glimpse of Sophia, who was curled up in the corner, tears streaming down her cheeks, before he was kicked in the side. He groaned in pain, rolling over to see Mason looming over him, blood still flowing freely from his nose; his eyes blazing with fury.

"You're going to _pay _for that, you_ cunt_._"_

He only just had enough time to curl himself up into a protective ball before the blows started raining down on him. He was kicked and punched with brutal force in the head, in his back, in his stomach, _everywhere_. Each hit felt a hundred times worse than the last and every attempt he tried to make to protect himself didn't seem to be working. There were three of them and only one of him. He tried to cover his face with his hands, but they were torn away from him and he was suddenly kicked hard in the nose. His head jerked back and he heard a nauseating snap which he assumed was the sound of his nose breaking. He yelled out, covering his nose with his hand, which quickly became sticky with blood. He could feel himself getting weaker and weaker and was finding it increasingly difficult to hear anything over the deafening ringing in his ears.

"_Stop it_! _Please_, stop it! You're going to _kill him_! _Don't_!"

A voice. A girl's. Crying. Sophia, he quickly realized.

"_Shut up_!" Mason bellowed. She whimpered in fear.

"_Hey_!"

He stiffened. There was a new voice. It took him a long moment before he noticed that the punches had stopped. Tentatively, he opened his eyes, but was unable to see very much. Everything was blurred and hazy and he was unable to make much out. The relief he felt was overwhelming but it was quickly overtaken by the encompassing pain and he groaned aloud.

"What the hell's goin' on in here?" That new voice again. He heard footsteps behind him and a sudden low gasp.

"Son 'f a _bitch_! Mason, you _fuck_!"

There was a thud and a yelp of protest. It sounded to Murphy like another fight was breaking out. Something clattered noisily to the floor.

"Merle! What're you-"

"_That's_ my lil' brother, you _asshole_!"

There was a sudden silence.

"You, what?" The Latino's voice.

"You heard me, _spic!_"

"C'mon man. Don't-"

"Don't _nothin'_! What the hell've you _done to him_!"

"He came for us first, man!" Mason's voice again. He sounded a lot less sure than he had before.

"I don't believe that for a fuckin' second! Daryl got more sense than that."

"Merle, we're sorry alright? We...We didn't know."

There was a heavy pause.

"This ain't over." The man's voice shook with barely controlled rage. "This ain't over, you sons-a-_bitches_."

Murphy flinched when someone grabbed his shoulder and hauled him up into a sitting position, making his head spin horribly. A face hovered into view and he blinked, trying desperately to clear his head.

"God _damn, _brother. Ain't you a sight for sore eyes?"

He frowned, struggling to make sense of the situation. Who was this man? And why the hell was he calling him _brother_? He wasn't his brother. Connor was. Where _was _Connor anyway? He should've been here. He pressed his bloodied hand to his aching head, struggling to keep it together.

"I...I..._w-what_?" he stammered.

Abruptly from the corner, he heard a whimper from Sophia and his head jerked slightly in her direction. He could only make out a small blob of blue in the corner though; his eyesight was still blurred hopelessly. The other man's head turned in the same direction.

"Hey!" he said in surprise. "I know you!"

Sophia stayed frozen where she was, cowering in the corner. She curled up even smaller as Merle approached her, recoiling away from him. Ever since he had joined their camp along with Daryl she had always been overly wary of him. He was too big, too loud, too violent and reminded her too much of her own father. The fear must've shown on her face as he came to a sudden halt, holding out his hands to her in a placating manner and giving her what he must have thought was a reassuring smile.

"Whoa, now. What's with that look, huh? I ain't gonna hurt you." He paused, surveying her curiously. "You're one of them from the Atlanta camp. Ed's kid, right? What was it?" He snapped his fingers, trying to remember her name. "Sally? Sarah?"

"S-Sophia." She said.

"Right." he grinned. "That was my next guess."

She found herself smiling back, in spite of herself, but the smile was quickly wiped off when her gaze fell on Murphy, who was still slumped beside the wall, his face a bloody mess.

"You here with the rest of the camp?" Merle asked her quietly.

She tore her gaze away from Murphy. "Huh?"

"I wanna know where the rest of your camp is." He insisted. "Me an' the others here, they was kind enough to take me back to Rockdale but the place was cleared out." He tilted his head to the side, regarding her enquiringly. "Care to tell me what happened?"

"T-There were walkers." She said softly, shuddered at the memory of the night. "We...a lot of people got killed."

"That so?"

She nodded.

"Huh. Where ya'll holed up at now then? 'Cause I've been...just dying to meet up with ya'll again. We ain't exactly parted on good terms, since those bastards left me chained to a God damn roof to die."

The girl's gaze drifted to his right hand, which ended abruptly in a bloody stump wrapped in gauze bandages and she shivered.

"I...I heard about that..." she murmured.

"So." Merle said. "Where about's your camp at now?" She remained silent and he sighed. "You ain't got no reason to be so tight-lipped 'bout it. It ain't _you _I'm mad at. I'd just like t'have a few choice words with that Sheriff asshole."

"He's Carl's Dad." She blurted out.

"That's real interestin," Merle said. "But what I _really _wanna know is where your camp's at now."

"I...I don't know." She said softly. "I don't know where everyone is."

He frowned. "How come?"

"I-I got lost. We were on our way to Fort Benning a-and we got stuck on the Highway when a-all these walkers came and I got chased into the woods."

"And what?" Merle said, scowling. "They sent Daryl out to find you? Like he's their pet bloodhound or some shit like that?

Sophia hesitated, unsure what to say. On one hand, she could tell him the truth: that the man sitting there wasn't actually Daryl, that he was just somebody she'd run into by chance that happened to look _exactly like him_, or she could simply let him think what he wanted to. It was pretty unlikely that he'd believe her anyway if she told him that Daryl was actually called Murphy and he had a brother called Connor who was waiting round the corner for them.

"Well?" Merle insisted, staring hard at her. "That what happened?"

She nodded tentatively and he shook his head in disgust, turning to Murphy who was now watching them both through one cloudy blue eye, his other having been swollen shut.

"Can't believe those fuckers." Merle said to him. "They think they can get away with treatin' you like their pet. Ain't nobody treats my lil' brother like that. Ain't _nobody_."

Murphy sat up a little straighter at that, his one visible eye suddenly narrowing in irritation. He sighed heavily.

"Listen." He said to Merle. "I-I dunno _what..._t'fuck you're on about, but I'm _not _yer broth-"

"_Walkers_!"

The sudden cry startled everyone in the room into silence and Murphy's confession was quickly forgotten. Merle clambered hurriedly to his feet.

"What the hell was that?" he said.

There was the sound of frantic footsteps and a teenage boy, no older than seventeen, appeared at the door, panting heavily. Mason strode towards him, furious.

"Randall! What the hell're you doing here! You're supposed to be at the car!"

"There's walkers!" he said excitedly. "T-They just came out of nowhere. Out of the woods. I-I swear there's like a hundreds of them." He spotted Murphy still slumped on the floor. "Who's that?"

"Doesn't matter." Mason replied quickly. "Get your ass in gear. Back to the car. We'll be right behind you."

"What about the guns?" Carlos protested.

"Another time! We gotta go _now_!"

"Son of a bitch." Merle said. "S'couldn't come at a worse time." He reached down and pulled Murphy to his feet, with some difficulty. "C'mon lil' brother. Time we hauled ass outta here."

"I told you, m'not yer-" Murphy started to say, but he winced when he felt tiny fingernails digging into his palm and looked down in surprise to see Sophia staring up at him, both her hands clasping his. She said nothing, but he didn't miss the slight headshake and read it's meaning loud and clear.

_Don't. Say. Anything_.

He couldn't understand it. He couldn't go with these people. He couldn't leave his brother. Connor was still at the gas station. He _needed _to get back to his twin. But now he was on his feet, he was hit suddenly with a wave of dizziness and his legs wobbled so much he was barely able to stand upright on his own and he was just _so tired _and all this thinking was too exhausting for him right now. Black spots danced in front of his eyes as he was led out of the police station and across the road to a red car parked at the side of the road. There were hurried footsteps, raised voices and a sudden gunshot made him jump.

"_Randall_!" he heard Mason yell. "Don't waste your fuckin' ammo!"

Then he was being shoved into the back seat of the pickup, Sophia thrown in next to him. There was a small part of him screaming to get let out of the car, that he couldn't leave his brother behind that he couldn't leave his brother to _die _but the much larger part was too _hurt_, too _tired _to do anything about it. He couldn't only sit there, growing steadily weaker from the pain, as the rest of the group clambered into the car and the engine roared to life as they pulled away from the sidewalk.

Next to him, he heard Sophia whimper and realized very abruptly that she was still clinging frantically to his hand, as if her very life depended on it.

As the rusty pickup drove on down the road and away from the streets which were quickly filling with walking corpses, none of the inhabitants of the car noticed the lonely figure of a man hurtling down the street towards the police station.

* * *

**OH NOES. IT'S ATTACK OF THE CLIFFHANGER**

**ASIDOJASIDJAOSJDIOASJDOAJSD**

**WhaT?**

**Just as a final, final note: as much as I am loving season three right now, I can't write it just yet as it wouldn't really work with the whole timeline with Sophia only been missing a day or so and yadda yadda. Meaning, the Governor WILL most likely make an appearance. **

**Just not yet.**

**As of now I've kinda had to improvise a bit and put Merle with another group that you see a bit of in Season Two, which is where we're at now. Can you guess what group it is? ;)**

**FREE CHOCOLAAAAAATE FOR WHOEVER GETS IT RIGHT :D**

**Because I'm feeling generous. ;)**

**But anyway, I gotta leave now. I got school tomorrow and it's already way past my bedtime. NEEHEE ^^**

**Adios, amigos**

**-pirouettes into the sun-**


	12. Divided

**Chapter 11: Uploaded Two Weeks After Previous Chapter**

**Chapter 12: UPLOADED TWO MOTHER FUCKING MONTHS AFTER PREVIOUS CHAPTER**

**Consistency****? LOL What the fuck's that?!**

**I think I'm supposed to be putting an apology in here somewhere...Well, I would apologise. But I'm not even sorry! Everything's been pretty hectic what with school and life in general that I've hardly had time to write.**

**I've been doing _stuff, _Lori.**

_**Thangs.**_

* * *

Something was wrong.

Connor wasn't entirely sure how he could tell. Maybe it was some sort of sixth sense. Or maybe it was something to do with the strange connection he'd always had with his twin. Either way, he could usually almost always tell when something had gone wrong.

And something definitely _had _gone wrong.

Something _must _have happened. Otherwise Murphy would've come back by now. What the hell was taking him so long?

The older McManus straightened up and sighed softly to himself, glancing at the SUV drearily. There didn't seem to be much point in trying to get the car to work now...He'd gone through practically every vehicle that had been abandoned at the station, as well as the ones in the surrounding street, but he hadn't had any luck so far; all of the fuel tanks had been left completely empty. Unless he was able to come up with some sort of solution, they were going to have to walk the distance to the highway. Something he wasn't exactly looking forward to.

He glanced up, absentmindedly scratching at his neck as he surveyed the street; debating whether or not he should just ditch the car and go to catch up with Murphy. He froze as his gaze abruptly fell on the figure of a man stumbling slowly along on the other side of the street. He appeared to have a pretty severe limp and as Connor watched, the man abruptly came to a halt, his head jerking in his direction. He caught a glimpse of a bloody face and colourless eyes before he ducked down behind the SUV, breathing hard.

"_Fuck_." He hissed to himself, praying he hadn't been seen. This was the _last _thing he needed right now. They'd been lucky in avoiding the walkers but it looked like that luck might be starting to run out. Even worse, he didn't even have anything to defend himself with. He stayed crouched down low, desperately searching the ground around him for some sort of weapon. But there was nothing he could use, apart from a few empty jerry cans, which weren't going to be very useful. After waiting a few more anxious moments, he raised himself up slightly, peering through the windows of the car, to see if the walker was approaching. He let out a quiet sigh of relief when he saw it was continuing on down the road, in the other direction, away from him. The relief he felt was quickly overcome by panic as he realized the walker was heading right for the police station.

Right for his twin.

He leapt to his feet, his mind working overtime. He had to do something! He needed something to distract it with, something to stop it-

A gunshot.

Connor jumped about a foot in the air at the explosive sound, head whipping round in the direction it had come from. The walker seemed to pause for just a second, almost as if in shock itself, before it continued on at a sudden faster pace. With his heart in his throat, he broke into a run, bolting across the street and dodging around the stray walker who snarled at him as he rushed past. He went skidding around the corner and into the next street, all thoughts of the SUV instantly forgotten.

Why the _hell _had a shot been fired?

He knew Murphy didn't have a gun. He couldn't have fired it. And even if he had somehow acquired one, surely..._surely_ he wouldn't have been so _stupid _as to fire it. He had _told _them they had to stay quiet_._ He should've _known_ any walkers nearby would've heard it. But then again...

Maybe he had to fire it.

Maybe Murphy was in trouble.

Connor felt suddenly gripped by panic. He spotted the police station at the other end of the street but was momentarily frozen in place by the distinct sound of a rumbling car engine. His gaze shifted slightly and he was able to catch a mere glimpse of what looked like a rusted red pickup truck before it hurtled round the corner and out of sight. The idea of who could have been driving the vehicle, or that there was a possibility there were other survivors never crossed his mind; he was far too concerned with his brothers safety.

Of course, the thought that Murphy could have been in the car never occurred to him either.

He broke into a run again, racing towards the police station, barely even noticing the walkers clustered on the other side of the street. He leapt up the stairs in one bound and ducked inside the building. The hallway inside was dark and gloomy, making it difficult for him to see much. He squinted, struggling to make anything out in the darkness.

"Murphy?" he hissed. "_Murph_? Where are you?"

He didn't receive an answer.

He stumbled forward in the gloom, working his way along the left wall. There weren't many rooms to the place and each room he peered into was either too dark to see into or didn't hold anything of particular value in it.

"_Murph_!" he called again, struggling to contain his panic. "For fuck's sake, _answer me_!"

Still nothing.

By this point he had reached the end of the corridor. The door in front of him was the only one that had been left open. He was only just able to make out the word 'Armory' printed on it in black. If Murphy was anywhere, he was willing to bet he would be in there.

He hesitated, his hand hovering just over the handle.

Surely he would've been able to answer him?

Surely he would have heard him calling for him?

Unless something had happened to him.

The thought of what could lie beyond the door suddenly became too much for him. For a moment, he found himself struggling to work up the courage to even open the door.

_Get a fuckin' hold of yourself_.

He shook off his needless anxiety and, taking a deep breath, stepped forward and shoved the door open.

Nothing.

He stared, dumbfounded. Along the left wall of the room, there was shelf upon shelf of a whole artillery of guns. Across from him, in the corner there was a large metal cabinet loaded with ammunition and a wooden table sat in the middle of the room.

But there was absolutely no sign of Murphy.

Or the girl, for that matter.

Connor stood hovering in the doorway for a long moment, completely at a loss for what to do next. He took a cautious step further into the room, and was abruptly gripped with an overwhelming sense of panic.

Murphy wasn't here.

Murphy was _gone_.

He was gone and now he was all on his own. Alone in the middle of some backwater town in some unknown state with dead people wandering the streets.

Great.

Fucking spectacular.

He took a cautious step further into the room, freezing when he realized the floor was sticky. He glanced down curiously and his breath caught in his throat when he realized just what it was he was standing in.

Blood.

The floor tiles at his feet were covered in _blood_. It was all over the place and..._Jesus Christ_, was that a fucking _tooth_? Connor stumbled back, horrified, trying to force down the panic, to force himself to _think_.

This was bad. There was no doubt something had obviously happened here. But he couldn't afford to panic. Not now. He _had _to keep a level head. Think about this logically. His gaze fell again to tiled floor and he caught sight of what looked like a piece of cloth, poking out from under the table. He leaned down to get a better look, being careful not to step in the blood smeared on the floor.

There, slumped forlornly on the blood speckled tiles, was Sophia's doll.

For a long moment he could only stare at the small toy. Then, with a shaking, tentative hand he reached out and picked it carefully. It stared right back at him with its dark button eyes and he quickly looked away suddenly overcome.

Sophia's doll was still here. She had always been hanging on to the thing like her life depended on it. Why would she have left it behind when she was so attached to it?

Could something have happened to her?

He had no way of knowing for sure. But he tried to remain hopeful. For one thing, there was still a good chance both Murphy and Sophia were alive. There weren't any bodies, and even though there was blood, now that he forced himself to look closer he noticed there wasn't that much. Not really. Not enough for a fatal injury anyway. He'd seen his fair share of dead bodies. He knew how messy things could get and he was pretty certain it was a lot worse than that.

But then...if Murphy wasn't _here_, then where the hell was he? It wasn't like his brother to just up and disappear like that. He wouldn't leave him hanging like that. He _wouldn't_.

Not if he had the choice.

Abruptly, he found himself remembering what he'd seen outside in the street. That glimpse of the pickup truck speeding off around the corner. Could _that _have something to do with his twin's disappearance? It wasn't much to go on; he was well aware of that. But it was all he had.

It was already plainly obvious that neither Murphy or Sophia were in the building. And he was hardly going to find them sitting on his ass doing nothing. Letting out a heavy sigh, Connor straightened up and shoved the small doll into his pocket, before he turned and briskly left the room. There were other rooms in the station that he was curious about but he worried that every second he wasted Murphy could be getting further and further away from him and he wanted to find his twin as soon as possible. He broke into a run, racing down the corridor and bursting out of the front doors and into the bright sunlight of the street outside. He was momentarily blinded and failed to notice the man standing just by the top of the stairs until the moment when he crashed straight into him.

He stumbled back, startled as the stranger whirled round and he was faced with a pair of ravenous, bloodshot eyes. The walker snarled at him, reaching out and with gnarled, broken fingers and he panicked, ducking out of its reaching and driving his shoulder into the thing's chest. The walker was propelled backwards through the air and landed hard on the bottom step with a sickening crack. Connor leapt over the fallen monster and raced down the street, glancing about him, horrified as he realized how many more there were. He didn't dare stop and to look; he just ran on in blind terror, skidding around the corner and ground to an abrupt halt. His heart fell as his gaze fell on the gas station. It was only a mere hundred feet or so. But it might as well have been a million miles away.

There was no way he would be able to get to the car now. It had been difficult enough before to find any gas beforehand, it would be practically impossible now with so many walkers standing between him and the station.

_Jesus Christ...Where the hell had they all come from?_

For a long moment he could only look on in utter horror at the sight of so many voracious dead eyes staring back at him.

"Well, _fuck me_." Connor said. And then he turned and ran for his life.

He hurtled down the street, stumbling on shaking legs. He dodged around a overturned jeep in the middle of the road, his gaze darting over the street ahead; forcing down the panic as he searched desperately for some sort of escape. He struggled to blot out the sounds of the dead staggering after him, tried not to picture their bloodied, snarling faces. He focused all of his attention on the way forward, trying to assembling his jumbled thoughts. He _had _to get away somehow. He knew he wouldn't be able to run forever; he would get tired. They wouldn't. His best chance would be to find somewhere to hide, to get out of sight until they moved on or until he could slip away unseen. While he might not have had the advantage of stamina over those things, but at least he could still think for himself.

He glanced over his shoulder, managing an exhausted laugh when he saw how far ahead he was; the walkers were still staggering along a good distance behind him. He should be able to get away easily. He just had to keep a clear head. That was all.

He darted into the next street, turning the corner so fast he barely had time to stop as a walker staggered out into the street front of him, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. He leapt back, letting out a yell of fright as he almost ran straight into it. The walking corpse turned towards him, snapping its bloodied teeth as it grabbed for him. Connor tried to duck out of reach but he wasn't quite fast enough. It grasped on to his shirt, catching hold of his sleeve and hauling him backward. He whirled round in a panic, managing to ram his forearm into the walkers throat, shoving it back and only just managing to keep it from biting him. With a snarl it lunged forward, very nearly knocking him off his feet and he struggled to keep his balance, all too aware that if he was to fall now he would likely never get back up again. Forcing down his panic and gathering what little strength he left, he hunched down and launched himself at the walker, shoving it away from him.

The gnarled fingers loosened their grasp on him and he leapt back as it stumbled back, falling to the ground. But he wasn't out of the woods yet. He glanced up to see the rest of the monsters came stumbling around the corner, literally only feet from him. Far too close for comfort. He had only seconds.

He glanced to his left, to the house on the corner, catching sight of the small opening around the side of the building, leading to the backyard. He saw his chance. He took it.

Wasting no time, Connor darted through the open front gate, racing through the front courtyard of the house and hurtling up the narrow side path. He slipped through the large wooden gate and threw himself against it, slamming it shut behind him. There was quiet for a long second, but then, before he was able to even catch his breath, there was a sudden loud bang as a body smashed into the gate on the other side. The force of the hit caused him to loose his grip, his feet slipping on the stone under his feet and it took a lot of effort for him to keep the door closed, to keep them out. There didn't seem to be any sort of lock on the gate and looking around he couldn't see anything he could use to barricade it with.

He'd made a terrible mistake, he realized. He'd tried to find somewhere to hide only to go and get himself trapped, like a fucking moron. There was nowhere for him to go now. And by the sounds of things, he hadn't been exactly successful in evading the walkers; there were more of them piling up on the other side of the door. There was another loud bang and the door jerked forward again as he slipped. It wouldn't be long; he probably only had a few seconds, maybe minutes at the most before they were able to force their way in. He glanced about the small garden he found himself in, desperately trying to find an escape. His gaze fell on the high wooden fence bordering the yard and all at once he knew what he had to do.

Steeling himself, he mustered up what little strength he had left, throwing his weight against the door to buy himself a few more precious seconds, and then bolted for the fence. He dodged around a rusted swing set, tripping over a child's tricycle that had been left half hidden in the grass. He heard a loud bang behind him as the wooden gate was thrown open from the weight of the walkers shoving against it.

Reaching the fence in only a few strides, he leapt up and dragged himself to the top. He'd just managed to hook his left leg over to the other side when he felt a hand grab his ankle. He yelled out in fright, glancing down to catch a terrifying glimpse of yellow eyes as he kicked out desperately trying to free himself. There was a horrifying moment when the hand pulled harder and his grip on the fence slipped that he thought he might fall back into the garden and be eaten alive by the walkers swarming the fence. But then, he kicked out again causing the hand to release its grip and the momentum from his hit threw him back. He lost his balance, toppling over on to the other side of the fence, landing hard on his back and then rolling on down the steep slope. The world spun violently around him, out of control. He yelled out in pain at the sickening crack as his head smashed into something hard. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes and he reached out with one hand desperately scrabbling for something to grapple on to, to stop himself moving. But before he was able to he abruptly reached the bottom of the slope, crashing into a small cluster of shrubs and rolling to a stop. He sat up quickly, his head spinning horribly and tentatively reached up to feel his temple, his fingers coming back sticky with blood. He must have hit a rock or something on the way down...

He fought back a sudden wave of drowsiness that threatened to overcome him, knowing he couldn't afford to fall asleep or pass out. Not now. If he did, it was very likely he'd wake up with much bigger problems than just a severe headache. He still had the threat of the nearby walkers to contend with. He jumped in fright at the sound of fists pounding on the fence and the muffled snarls coming from the other side.

It was plainly obvious that he was no longer safe here. He didn't know how long it would be before the fence gave way and he didn't want to be there when it did. He needed to get as far away as possible, as _fast _as possible.

Regrettably, finding Murphy was going to have to come later.

Connor clambered unsteadily to his feet and stumbled onward, quickly disappearing into the thick undergrowth of the surrounding trees.

* * *

How long had it been now?

He'd lost count of the days and was no longer exactly sure how much time had passed since he had left the small town behind him. How long it'd been since he'd last seen his twin...

He stumbled forward through the seemingly endless trees on unsteady legs, barely able to work up the energy to put one foot in front of the other. He tried to distract himself from the constant pain by thinking over what had happened; trying to assess the situation he found himself in. But it was hard to concentrate on anything. The memories of the past few days had all merged together into a hazy, indistinct mess.

All he could really remember was that his twin had gone missing and he had no way of finding him again. All he had found at the abandoned police station was a frightened little girls doll. And some blood.

A _lot _of blood.

Maybe Murphy's. Maybe not. He didn't know. Thinking about it was starting to give him a headache. Connor groaned in pain, clutching at the side of his head where he'd hit it when he fell off the fence. He'd smashed his skull pretty hard when he'd fallen. Not _quite_ hard enough to fracture the skull or cause any real damage, though. Or so he hoped.

He sighed quietly to himself, turning his attention to the sky above or what little of it he could see through the thick roof of leaves over his head. The sun was still pretty high in the sky; he guessed it was around maybe three or four in the afternoon. There were still a good few hours of sunlight left before night came. That thought made him shudder. It had been bad enough spending the last few days completely on his own, but the situation got infinitely worse when darkness fell. For one thing, he had no torch. No light of any kind. It got so dark he could barely see in front of his own nose. He was forced to move on at a near snails pace, feeling his way along, bumping into everything in the darkness.

He couldn't sleep either. He wouldn't dare. He was afraid of leaving himself vulnerable. Without a gun or any other kind of weapon, he had no way to defend himself. He simply wasn't able to afford the luxury of sleep. But even so, he was only human. There was only so long he could go without rest and it was starting to take a toll on him. He was sure there had been a few times where he'd actually started sleepwalking; lurching along in a daze, only to be rudely awakened when he walked face first into a tree.

And if the fatigue wasn't bad enough, there was still the problem of food to contend with. He hadn't eaten anything since the gas station, however long ago that was. If he didn't end up dying from starvation, then he was likely to go crazy from the lack of sleep. Unless the walkers go to him first. Either way, he was beginning to doubt he'd ever see his twin again...

He'd been trying to stop himself from thinking along that route; to stay optimistic about the situation but it was so _difficult _to remain hopeful when-

What was that?

Connor froze in place, listening intently. He'd heard something, from somewhere behind him. He turned slowly, glancing over his shoulder and scanning the trees.

There! Movement. Just to his right. He didn't see what it was and he didn't particularly want to either; he just dropped down, ducking out of sight and praying that he hadn't been seen. Had it been a walker? He couldn't be sure. He stayed crouched down low, straining to hear anything else. For the longest few seconds there was nothing but absolute quiet then all at once the silence was broken by the loud snapping of branches and the sound of trampling feet as whatever it was he had seen suddenly came thundering through the trees.

Towards him.

Connor cursed, scrambling quickly to his feet and turning round to be faced with a horse cantering towards him at breakneck speed.

"Whoa!" he yelled out, leaping back as the animal skidded to an abrupt halt just feet from him; rearing up on its hind legs and kicking out wildly. He dodged the hooves, not wanting to get trampled on. The horse whinnied loudly in fright, trotting back as he made a lunge for the reigns hanging from its head and pulled hard, trying to get the animal under control. After a few more seconds of bucking and kicking, the horse eventually came to a complete stand still. Connor let out a huge sigh of relief exhausted after his efforts. Once he'd managed to get his breath back, he reached up with a tentative hand to pet the horses neck.

"There y'are." He said quietly. "Yer alright now."

He glanced up and, spotting the saddle still attached to its back, found himself wondering who it belonged to. Someone _must _have owned the animal; how else could it have gotten this far out by itself?

"Where t'fuck did you come from?" he asked the animal, thinking aloud to himself. It did seem pretty strange that it had just appeared like that, seemingly out of nowhere. Then again, maybe it was a good thing. Going on horseback would certainly be a lot easier than walking. He doubted his exhausted legs would be able to carry him much further anyway.

But then again...he glanced doubtfully at the horse, which was still shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot; whinnying softly every now and again and tugging gently at the reigns, he still held tightly in his fist. She (he guessed it was a she anyway) seemed pretty distressed and was evidently a very nervous animal. Those were always the most trouble and hardest to control. Added to that that he hadn't ridden a horse in a very, _very _long time...maybe it wasn't the best idea. If she was to get spooked by something else and buck him off, he might land badly and hurt himself even worse. Who was to say whether he'd be able to pick himself back up again? He bit his lip, thinking hard, his gaze wandering over his surroundings as he pondered his situation.

Ahead of him, the crude path he had been meticulously following dropped off at the left side to form a steep slope, at the bottom of which was a narrow, muddy river. He had been sticking to that since he had came across it about a mile or so back, hoping it might lead him somewhere and because he hadn't really had any other plan. His gaze followed the river to where it ended in a steep rock face.

And then he saw something that made him pause.

He squinted, unable to make out much in the gloomy shade of the trees. He couldn't be certain...but it looked like there was something in the water. Swirls of red merged with the murky river water. Connor felt suddenly cold.

Was that..._blood_?

He caught sight of something else; what looked like the figure of a person slumped at the bottom of the waterfall, just by the muddy riverbank and, even more worryingly, the blood in the water seemed to lead straight to them. Whoever it was, they were _hurt_. _Badly_, by the looks of things. He had to do something! He tugged on the horse's reigns, reaching over and trying them haphazardly to a nearby tree before he turned and raced up the pathway towards the waterfall as fast as his exhausted legs would carry him. He collapsed to his knees, out of breath and panting, when he reached the rock face, staring down into the ravine at the man lying there.

And when his gaze fell on his bloodied face, he swore his heart stopped for a second.

"Murph..." he gasped, anguished. "Jesus Christ..._Murph._"

He had wanted so desperately to find his twin again. But not like this. Definitely _not like this_. Not slumped in the mud, unconscious and covered in blood and dirt; his face so deathly pale, if it hadn't been for the shallow rise and fall of his chest he would have thought he was already dead. And what the _hell was that thing sticking out of his side_? Had he been impaled on something?

_Holy shit_...

Connor felt suddenly sick. Like he could barely breath. And it only got worse, as he suddenly caught a flicker of movement from further down the ravine and turned to see a walker stumbling along the riverbank.

Heading right for his brother.

* * *

**Ok, maybe I lied. Maybe I am a teensy bit sorry that it's taken me so long to update. Again. Unfortunately my exams are right around the corner and there's still a lot of coursework to be done so I can't guarantee the next chapter will come sooner. But I'll try my best!**

**And I'd like to thank all the wonderful magnificent people who continue to take time out of their own busy lives to review my craptacular fic. So much love for all of you! x**


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